Wicked Games
by IDreamofHouse
Summary: House and Cuddy are finally together. Like many people in a new relationship they play games with each other, whether they're aware of it or not. But they also become reluctant participants in a wicked game.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This story is the sequel to __**Southern Comfort**__. If you haven't done so already, you may want to read that one first. However, for those of you who have and need a quick recap:_

_PPTH had hosted an elegant reception celebrating the new expansion of the hospital's Pediatric Wing. It was a very important event for the hospital and Cuddy expected House to be there because he was the one responsible for bringing in the major donor's dollars. And House of course, had planned to be MIA. _

_This time, Cuddy's idle threats of more clinic duty suddenly become more of a threat to House. Against his wishes, he unwilling goes to the reception but with a plan in place to ruin Cuddy's night at the gala._

_Hilarity ensues as House and Cuddy play a game of cat and mouse. Boy chases girl, boy gets girl and wins her heart after feelings are shared and secrets revealed._

_The only person who knows about their newfound relationship is Wilson._

_At least that's what they thought…_

Wicked Games

Chapter 1

A young woman with long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail stood frozen in the corridors of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. She had just witnessed a short period of time ago a rather serendipitous moment between Doctor Gregory House and The Dean of Medicine.

Perhaps they were impervious to the glass walls of the office. Or maybe they had a blatant disregard for privacy. Either way it was quite clear to any onlooker that something was going on between the two of them beyond an employer employee relationship.

The woman clenched her jaw and continued to stare at the two of them. Disappointment and frustration sank into her brain.

_She _wanted to be the one circled in his strong, yielding arms.

House pulled away from Cuddy's embrace and cleared his throat. " Um, excuse me, weren't you the one who said we really needed to control ourselves at work?"

"_Me?"_

"Yeah, _you._ You're the one who _kissed_ _me!_ Less than five minutes ago you said," he tried to imitate her voice, "House, we really shouldn't do that kind of stuff anymore at work."

Then with a jovial smile he added, "And now you want to play tonsil hockey in my office? I'm flattered. Really. But, now is neither, the time nor the place."

He quickly reached for his cane at his desk and snarked, "What do you say about the janitor's closet in ten minutes?"

"House."

"You're right. Make it five."

"House! I was…I was…I…was…just merely thanking…you…for planning that wonderful European trip. That's all." The last couple of words rolled fast off her tongue.

House made a sour face. "Then what was that?"

"That," she pointed a finger repeatedly at her chest and back at him, "was not an invitation."

"Yeah right."

Cuddy's voice started off in a higher register. "No really. It was very sweet and romantic. I was caught off guard because it was so…you know, so _unlike you_."

"Hey, Pinocchio. I can tell that you're lying."

"I'm not. Really."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure there's some truth in your lie."

He raised his hand to her face, cupped her jaw and brushed his thumb along her cheek.

"But I know when you're lying because you have a tell."

"I do?"

"As a matter of fac…"

House suddenly noticed something or someone standing outside his office in his peripheral vision. He removed his hand from Cuddy's soft skin and quickly whipped his head around.

A flash of pink went by.

"Cameron."

Cuddy joked, "No, it's Cuddy. You know, rhymes with," she said the first thing that popped into her mind, "Huddy."

He arched his brow. "Huddy? That's not even a word. You probably should have come up for some air during our make-out sess."

"I wouldn't call that making out?"

"You were already rounding first and on your way home."

"I'm not good with baseball metaphors. What's first base again?"

"Cuddy. I'm serious. I think Cameron saw us."

"So? So what? It's _Cameron_. She's harmless. And she has Chase. No biggie."

"Yeah, that's what she said."

Cuddy placed her hands on her hips and canted her head to the side.

"It's just that I always get this weird vibe from her. I don't think she's quite over me. I think she still wants to be all over me and literally under me."

"What are you trying to say, House? You think she has the hots for youor something?"

"Well, once upon a time it was common knowledge that she had a thing for me."

Cuddy clutched her belly and laughed. "House," she puffed out the remainder of sentence in between giggles, "you're old enough to be her…"

"Boss! Exactly!"

He bit his lip.

"Anyway, nothing ever happened between us even after our," he shuttered, "our date. Don't get me wrong, Cameron is smart, young and aesthetically pleasing but I didn't want her, I've never wanted her…because thing is, I sort of had this thing all along for _my _boss…"

She smiled. "That's so..."

"_And_ for my boss' _thing_."

He pointed to his crotch.

"And had _this thing_ for my boss too."

"I'm charmed. Really. Anyway all joking aside, I think it's best we listen to Wilson and set some ground rules at work. About us."

"Whatever you say, boss." He slapped the back of her ass.

"I mean it."

House innocently grabbed his shoulder and lightly caressed it. "Sorry, reflex."

"From this day forward on hospital grounds," Cuddy splayed her hands and tapped each digit as she openly listed the rules, "there will be no sex. No fondling. No ogling. No cat calling…"

"No fun." House made a sourpuss face. "Cuddy, I do at least three of those on a daily basis."

"Are you whining?"

"How about I do _you_ at least three times at work on daily basis and we forget about all these cockamamie rules?"

"What's the matter, House? Think you'll be the first one to crack under pressure?"

"No, I'm just saying that if I don't act like myself and harass you in some manner, hospital personnel will suspect something is up and scrutinize my every move."

Cuddy snarked, "And I could go a day without HR complaints about you!"

"A day? Is that how long you think I'll last without breaking any of your lame rules?"

"I was being nice and rather generous when I said a day."

He moved in closer to her. "Oh really? "

She closed the gap tighter and was practically in his face. "Yeah."

As thousands of neurons fired in House's head, a thought popped into his mind and a wicked grin crept up on his face. "Do you want to put your money where your mouth is? How about we play a little game?"

Cuddy moved over to his desk and sat on the edge with her legs crossed as House circled the room. "I'm listening."

"A bet, perhaps?"

"How much?"

"No, not for money. Sexual favors."

House licked his lips.

"Winner gets…"

"Let me guess. You're going to try to make this about us somehow having another romp in the hay at work."

"I love how you know me so well."

Cuddy shook her head. "House, no."

House walked over to Cuddy and traced the outline of the desk with his middle finger. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'd really like it if we could get better acquainted with Wilson's desk."

"House."

"It would be funny, our dirty little secret. I mean, we already told Wilson that we did it on his desk anyway when we really didn't."

"Your persistence is getting you nowhere."

"Come on. This would technically turn our lie into a truth. And, you know how much I hate to lie."

Cuddy smirked. "First you're whining and now you're practically begging? I think I'm going to like this wicked game. Dr. Gregory House, you're going down…"

"On you? My, oh my. Now, look who's begging whom?"

"Look, you can't say winner gets a nooner at work because that would break all the ground rules we've established five minutes ago."

"Fine. If I win, you have to," he thought hard for a moment, "wear no panties for the day."

She laughed. "That's easy. Been there, done that."

House's brows shot up. "Wait. Are you telling me that you're not wearing any…right now?"

She blushed and turned away. "I've already said too much."

He became excited. And so did _it._ "Seriously?"

"Why don't you come here and find out."

"Seriously?"

In a very breathy voice Cuddy responded, "House, tell me now…what happens," she licked her lips and grazed the tip of her index finger down her mouth, "when I win this bet because I'm a few seconds away from achieving that goal."

"Hey! I wasn't going to put the moves on you."

"Sure."

"Your cunning attempt to trick me didn't work."

"Whatever. So, what do I get if I when this bet?"

"How about I cook breakfast for you."

She motioned with her arms for him to continue. "And?'

"In my birthday suit?"

"And?"

"What do you mean? And?"

"And breakfast has to be something nice. Whatever I want."

"Fine. Cook all your favorites in my birthday suit."

"And?"

"And? There's that word again."

"And you'll have to do an extra four hours of clinic a week for the next six months."

"What? You're insane, woman!"

"What's the matter? Stakes too high? Afraid that you'll lose?"

"Okay." House rolled up his sleeves on his wrinkled blue button-downed shirt. "Well, in addition to the crotch-less panties you'll have to…"

He gave her a quizzical look as a small smile fought its way onto Cuddy's lips.

"Wait a minute." House shook a finger at her and chuckled. "Oh, you're good and sneaky. I didn't realize I was dealing with such a fierce competitor. We haven't even finalized the terms of the bet and you're already playing the game."

She batted her eyelashes and innocently remarked, "I don't know what you're talking about, House."

"You think I'm weak. You're trying to turn me on, right now."

Cuddy twirled a strand of hair and looked down at his bulging crotch. "Don't I turn you on all the time?"

"Yes! And stop doing that!"

"Oh, this is going to be too easy. My little caveman is going to cave in by the end of the day."

"Oh yeah? Wanna bet?"

"I thought that's what we were doing, House. Oh man, you're hopeless. I bet you won't even last through the afternoon without saying something or making a move on me."

"Well, I bet you couldn't even last through our lunch date later on in the cafeteria."

Cuddy heavily laughed. "You're on!"

She walked to his door and opened it. An inviting cool breeze soothed her flushed face.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to write up a grocery list of all the things you'll need to get in order to make my breakfast tomorrow morning."

"And you better prepare yourself to be skirting around the hospital thong-less."

Cuddy looked back at him with a wicked grin. "Oh, if only you knew."

House fell back against his chair as she exited his office. He exhaled deeply and grabbed his balls, the giant one and the red one from his desk.

"Fuck."

He sank his teeth into his giant tennis ball. Then he placed it back on his desk and grabbed his _other_ balls.

"I am so fucked."

House picked up his phone and dialed Cuddy's extension.

Cuddy was in her office at her desk, thinking about what delicious meal House would make for her tomorrow morning. With a pen in hand she jotted down a few things on a note pad.

Then her phone rang.

She picked it up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"What are you wearing?"

"House. _I just_ left your office."

"Better yet, describe for me what you'll be wearing tomorrow underneath all your clothes since you're going to lose the bet."

"Phone sex?"

"No rule about touching _ourselves_ at work."

Cuddy continued writing down her breakfast favorites. "Shouldn't you be focusing on a case?"

"I'd rather be focusing on…"

She raised her voice a little louder. "House."

"I don't have one."

"Well then, shouldn't you be in clinic."

"Really, Cuddy?"

She remained deathly silent on the line.

"Cuddy?"

"Get back to work."

"_Slave driver_."

"_Slacker_."

"_Perjurer_."

"_Felon._"

"Enough with the foreplay. I'll see you at lunch. That is, if you could last till then." He chuckled. "You know where to find me."

"Actually House, half the time I really don't have a clue about your whereabouts in this hospital since you tend to, you know, hide from me all the time. But, I suppose I could follow the scent of desperation and longing," she snarked.

"And I suppose I could follow the trail of your sticky goo behind me. That is, of course, if the janitor doesn't mop it up first."

"House, _you're not_ going to win."

"Admit it, Cuddy. You're just as hot and bothered right now as me?"

"Goodbye House."

Cuddy hung up the phone and shifted a little in her seat. The fabric of her damp panties conspicuously clung to her lady parts. She stood up for a moment from her porous black leather office chair. A moist circular film was imprinted in the middle of her seat.

She sat back down and sighed relief, extremely glad that House wasn't privy to that knowledge. If only he knew how his actions—let alone their banter—physically affected her all of those years.

She glanced back down at her note pad. Omelet. Crepes. French toast. Blueberry muffins. Everything sounded wonderful. But further down the end of the page she apparently had absentmindedly written some more items while on the phone with House. Sausage. Salami. Bologna pony. Meat popsicle.

Cuddy balled up the paper in her hand and threw it in the wastebasket.

"Oy. Maybe this isn't going to be as easy as I thought."


	2. Chapter 2

There was a lot of hustle and bustle in the Emergency Room. Doctors and nurses milled about trying to attend to their patients while throngs of people gathered in the waiting room, occupying most of the available seating and space.

Cuddy zigzagged her way across the room and over to the ER Nurse's station. She glanced at the large dry erase board and scanned the ER room guide. One gunshot wound, three auto accident victims and nineteen moderately to severe cases of food poisoning.

Full house.

Cameron emerged from behind one of the curtained rooms, dressed in her usual hospital garb, pale pink scrubs with bright orange piping. She walked toward the direction of the Nurse's station with her head down, looking over a patient's chart. She looked up briefly to see where she was going but it was too late. She literally ran into Cuddy.

And Cuddy was the last person she wanted to see.

Cuddy rubbed the side of her forehead and winced. "_Ow!"_

"Sorry," Cameron muttered under her breath as she moved away from her. She snapped her head back down and sifted through the patient's chart once again. With feigned interest and a bitter taste in her mouth, she skimmed the pages, seemingly ignoring Cuddy's presence a few feet away.

Cuddy sensed some tension and tried to broach a subject with Cameron. "Wow! _Nineteen_ cases of food poisoning?"

"Yeah, a retirement party for Mr. Arnold Fleming at Blue Moon Grill. He…"

Cameron paused as Cuddy's phone chimed then continued, "He along with his former boss and colleagues celebrated his last day at work by having a private dinner party there. Everyone who attended got sick. Well, everyone except Mr. Fleming and his wife that is. The police are investigating."

Cuddy removed her phone from the back of her pocket and smiled at the text from House, "Dr. Smarty Pants WAN2 get into your Party Pants."

"Sounds wonderful."

"Huh? Wonderful?"

"Did I say wonderful?" Cuddy nervously laughed. "I meant wrathful."

"Right. So, the dinner was supposed to be a celebration for Mr. Fleming's thirty-five years of employment…"

Cuddy smiled and nodded her head as Cameron continued discussing the patient's long medical history while texting the letters "MTE" back to House.

After a few minutes had gone by, Cameron realized Cuddy wasn't really listening to her at all. She cleared her throat to gain Cuddy's attention and said, "Anyway, his wife later revealed that he was forced into retirement after a massive layoff and was not very happy with their decision to get rid of him."

"Oh."

Cuddy's glanced at her phone as it chimed again.

"W4u" was displayed on her screen. "Damn. Got to go take care of this now." Cuddy held up her phone toward Cameron before placing it back in her pocket. "Hey, by the way, thanks for the heads up. I'll have to cancel my dinner reservations."

"Dinner reservations?"

"Yeah, I was planning on going to the Blue Moon Grill tonight."

Cameron's body tensed and her mouth contorted. "Oh really?" Her voice sounded strange. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Cameron couldn't make heads or tails of what she had seen earlier that morning in his office. Although it looked as if something was going on between House and Cuddy, she needed to know if this was simply a matter of Quid Pro Quo or a matter of love. _She had to know._

She tried to fish around for more details, hoping Cuddy would bite and reveal more about her relationship with House. But Cuddy never answered her questions.

The silence between them spoke volumes as the conversation suddenly became more awkward. Thankfully, they were interrupted by the commotion at the ambulance bay.

Two EMTs rolled an unresponsive patient through the main ER doors. One of them called out, "Hey! I need some help over here."

Cameron raced over to the gurney to assist.

Cuddy was in total disbelief. House was right. He did see Cameron in the corner of his eye while she and he were kissing. And Cameron saw them too. Her strange behavior was proof of that. But, was he right also about her having unresolved feelings for him?

She proceeded to leave the ER and walk back to her office. But amid the chaos, she could hear faint music coming from behind one of the privacy curtains and stopped short. It sounded vaguely familiar. She peered under the curtain and saw a pair of cool grey Nike trainers with fluorescent yellow laces and swoosh. Jean clad legs crossed at the ankle and dangled about a foot off the ground.

Cuddy pulled the curtains apart and nearly tore them off the ceiling track. "House!"

A teenaged kid stood up from behind the curtain and off the edge of a patient bed. He fumbled a handheld video game device in his hands. "Geez lady! You scared the shit out of me."

House snuck up behind Cuddy and tapped her shoulder. "Ahem. You looking for me?"

Cuddy turned around to face him. "You're _supposed to be_ in clinic."

House motioned for his video game back. "Game over kid." He retrieved it and placed in his coat pocket. "Now scram."

The kid took off back toward the waiting room area.

Cuddy grabbed House's arm and pulled him over to the bed.

"Whoa! Don't you think we should close the curtains," he said with a goofy grin. But his smile soon disappeared after he noticed a small bump on Cuddy's forehead. "Hey, what happened?"

"Cameron."

"She hit you?"

"No. She sort of ran into me."

"Ran into?" House examined the side of her head.

"I'm fine. Don't worry." She removed his hands from her temple. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here remember? Maybe we should get you a CT scan."

"I meant here. In the ER."

"Oh. Rectal Foreign Body," he said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"Not me, some idiot patient—who has already been admitted twice to the ER for an RFB—in the last few months by the way."

"Twice?"

"Yep."

"You're lying."

He leaned on his cane. "I wish I was."

"Let me guess. He slipped and fell on something."

"Did I tell you about this guy already?"

"No. But we all know, everybody lies, especially bottom line with these with these kind of cases."

"The first time this idiot was here he claimed he was showering, slipped on a bar of soap then landed dead center on a shampoo bottle."

"Yeah, like that really happened."

Cuddy snickered.

"He has seriously got to have his head up his ass if _he_ thinks _we_ think his Head and Shoulder's ended up his ass that way."

House inched his way closer to Cuddy. "I'm rubbing off on you."

"What did you say?"

"I'm rubbing off on you."

"HA!" Cuddy lightly punched House in the arm. "You blew it! I won the bet!"

"What? When? How?"

"_I'm rubbing off on you?_ Not appropriate in the workplace."

"Cuddy, I meant that sounded like something else I would say. I'm the one who normally speaks with clever puns."

"Yeah, but it was the way that you said it. There was something between the lines."

"More like between the sheets. I think _you're the one _with sex on the brain."

"Whatever."

"Come on. I text you a dirty message and you respond with 'my thoughts exactly'. Let's just drop these stupid rules."

"No. But I'll allow texting, as long as you don't leave your phone lying around for others to see."

"I think I can live with that for now."

"Good."

"Anyway, you got to hear about this patient. Last month he was here again for the same problem, only this time it wasn't with a shampoo bottle, but a medium sized butternut squash."

Cuddy arched her brow. "Butternut squash?"

"Yeah. You know, it's a creamy 'flesh-toned' vegetable that looks rather…rather…what's the word?"

"Phallic?"

House stared at her with a confident smile.

"I know what butternut squash looks like, House."

"No. It's just…you said the P word. That's a dirty word. I win."

"What? What phallic?"

"_Oh! You said it again_!" He leaned in to her and whispered, "So does this mean you can't wear any panties for two days now instead of one?"

"House, I was speaking in clinical terms. We were discussing a case."

"Right."

"The RFB patient has a history of mental illness. It's obvious he was using it for other purposes. Andphallic isn't even a dirty word, at least not by your standards." Cuddy bit her lip. "By the way, how did he tell you it happened that time?"

House gesticulated quotation marks with both hands. "Unfortunate kitchen mishap."

"I see. But now I'm trying to figure out why you're here. There are plenty of doctors in this building. What business is it of yours? You came down here to the ER just to humiliate a patient?"

"No. Well, yes."

Cuddy placed her hands on her hips.

"I also bet Wilson one hundred dollars that this guy would be back again. He doubled it if I could guess what said object would be," he motioned with hands, "you know…up there."

She began to tap her foot. "And?"

"And I'm here to get the evidence to prove to Wilson that he owes me _two_ hundred bucks."

"You're lying."

"Still don't believe me, huh?"

"House, I know you. You'll try just about everything to get out of clinic duty. The jig is up. Get back to work."

Cuddy nudged his side.

"Why aren't you moving? Why are you trying make me mad?"

"I'm not trying to make you mad."

"Yes you are."

"I'm not."

Cuddy pointed to the ER room guide. "Then, why isn't it written on the board there?"

"The patient is no longer here. They couldn't extricate the backscratcher through conventional means. He's being prepped for surgery as we speak."

"House…"

One of the ER nurses delicately approached Cuddy and House.

"Excuse me, Dr. Cuddy." She handed House a file marked Radiology and looked back at Cuddy. "Dr. House said he needed this immediately."

He retrieved the file folder and opened it. "Thank you."

The nurse left them and attended to another patient.

House carefully examined the contents of the file. "Now I have the X-Ray to prove it. See." He pulled out the X-Ray film and smiled.

Cuddy squinted her eyes. "Is that?"

"A backscratcher? Yes! Wilson owes me two hundred bucks! And I think you owe me a sincere apology."

"House, I'm sorry."

"That didn't sound _very_ sincere."

"Don't push your luck."

Cuddy cleared her throat.

"Just out of curiosity, what was his story this time?"

"Oh, you mean how this," he pointed to the backscratcher on the X-Ray, "ended up here? According to the patient, he had used it for the sole purpose of relieving his bad anal itch."

House and Cuddy both tried to stifle a laugh.

"I swear he's doomed to be the butt of jokes around here forever."

"House, please tell me that you've already arranged another psych council for Mr. Accident-Prone?"

"Yes. They've been very busy lately. Did you know that we've had at least fourteen other RFB cases just _this _month? _This month._ Weird."

House placed the X-Ray film back in the file and began to walk away from Cuddy.

"Um, where do you think, you're going?" Cuddy pointed in the opposite direction. "Clinic is that way."

He turned to face her. "Gee, don't you think I've earned my Get Out of Clinic Duty card now?"

"Nope. Think again."

He waggled his eyebrows and waved the patient file in his hand. "You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

"Eew. Tell you what. I'll let you go see Wilson and collect your two hundred dollars before reporting to clinic, okay?"

"How about I go collect my two hundred dollars and go play doctor somewhere else, preferably with you before reporting to clinic."

"House!"


	3. Chapter 3

Wilson sat in his office with his hands neatly folded, resting on his lap. He was thankful his chair was ergonomically correct and comfortable because he was going to be confined to his office all day sitting in that chair. He had several appointments scheduled that day, like the one happening right now with Mr. Joaquim Silva.

"Mr. Silva." Wilson took a moment to collect his thoughts and looked away for moment. His mouth was dry and felt like it was closing up. "After running several tests we noticed that your CA19-9 levels were elevated and…"

Wilson unclasped his hand and leaned forward.

"And based upon the CT scan yo…"

House cracked open Wilson's office door and stuck his arm through. He waved a file in his hand. "Special delivery, for a Dr. Wilson." He stepped into the room unaware that Wilson was not alone.

Across from him at his desk sat a thick silver-haired sixty-three year old man with matching handlebar mustache. "Pleased to meet you," he said in a very thick accent.

The man wiped his palms on the sides of his long sleeved black Henley, stood up and extended his arm toward House. House in turn shook his hand while handing the file over to Wilson.

Wilson glared at House, extremely annoyed because of the intrusion. "House, _can't _you see I'm busy?" He motioned his hand over to Mr. Silva then reclined back in his office chair with his arms folded across his chest.

"But, this really can't wait."

Wilson opened the file, pulled the X-Ray film out and held it up in the air toward the fluorescent recessed lighting above them.

Mr. Silva's eyes widened. "What _the hell_ is that?"

House looked over at the patient and nonchalantly remarked, "Oh that? It's nothing."

Wilson tried to get the patient's attention, "Mr. Silva?"

The patient shook his head vigorously. "No. That's not what it looks like to me!"

House shrugged his shoulders. "Unfortunately, I can't say."

"_Oh God, you don't know what it is?"_

"Of course, I know what it is. But, I really can't say for legal reasons. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

Mr. Silva ripped the X-Ray out of Wilson's hand then questioned House. "You can tell me Doc. What is it? It's a tumor, isn't it?"

"It's not a tumor," House answered in a poor impression of Arnold Schwarzenegger. "Come on. I think it's fairly obvious what it is. Draw your own conclusion."

Mr. Silva spoke in his native Portuguese tongue and clutched his gold chain and crucifix near his chest. "_Meu Deus! __É pior do que um tumor__!"_

He looked directly at House.

"It's bad. Isn't it?"

Wilson interrupted again. "Mr. Silva!" But his words had fallen on deaf ears.

House tilted his head to the side and squinted at the X-Ray. "Yes. It looks pretty bad. But it will be all over soon."

The patient pressed House for more information. "So, what are we talking about…a year? Six months?"

"I'm guessing probably in the next fifteen minutes or so."

"_What?"_

Wilson bellowed, "_Mr. Silva! Mr. Silva!_ _I've been trying to tell you. That's not your X-Ray."_

House looked at Wilson then back at the patient. "Oh my gosh, you thought I was talking about _you? _ No." He stretched out the last word. "No. That idiot has been in surgery for the last twenty minutes because he got a little too friendly with his backscratcher, _if you know what I mean._ There's a good chance he perforated his colon and may need a colostomy."

Mr. Silva took in a deep breath and blew out a sigh of relief. "Whew! Thank God!" With a nervous smile he held his arm out in front of him. His hand trembled. "Look at me. I'm still shaking."

Wilson gave a sideways glance to House. "Can you please wait for me outside?"

House obliged but not before taking the X-Ray away from the sweaty patient's hand. "Excuse me." He bowed his head and mouthed the words "five minutes" to Wilson as he exited the office.

"As I was saying Mr. Silva we've got your test results back and," he paused, "and I'm afraid I have to be the bearer of bad news. You have pancreatic cancer."

Mr. Silva fell back down on the chair behind him as fear washed over his face.

Wilson continued, "The tumor is large and it's clearly evident that the cancer has spread beyond the pancreas into the lymph nodes."

The patient tried to comprehend Wilson's words, but they sounded muffled. He strained his ears. "I…don't understand. I've just been feeling bloated and had a little stomach pain. And I would get that feeling every time after I ate my daughter-in-law's bacalhau."

"Mr. Silva."

"She's a lousy cook. I never met anyone so disastrous in the kitchen."

"Mr. Silva."

"You're mistaken. Her bacalhau gives everyone gas, especially my primo João. I've been having bad indigestion that's all."

"Mr. Silva!" Wilson shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"What? What are…you…saying?" Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion.

"I'm sorry to tell you that you're looking at about six to ten months with treatment. Three to five months without."

House retreated back to his office and plopped in his chair in front of his computer. He threw his cell phone on this desk and logged on to play a game of online Poker. When he was on his third hand he noticed out of the corner of his eye a flashing green light on his cell phone.

He picked it up off the desk and checked his voicemail. There were fourteen messages from a blocked number. Thirteen consecutive hang-ups followed by one very long, strange recording. It was the song, _I Will Possess Your Heart_ by Death Cab For Cutie.

House hung up the phone puzzled by the blocked caller ID and time stamp on the message. It said it was recorded at eleven thirty in the afternoon when he and Cuddy were in the ER. If Cuddy couldn't have called him then who did?

This wasn't some random mistake.

He bit his lip and thought hard, narrowing down the list of callers who had his personal cell phone number. He grabbed his bottle of Vicodin in his coat pocket, popped the lid off and placed two large tablets down his gullet.

Mr. Silva's mind wandered as Wilson comforted him. Family members, living and long gone, flickered through his mind followed by a broad spectrum of emotions. His heart was heavy and he felt disconnected from the world.

He slowly rose from his chair. "What am I supposed to tell my wife? My kids?"

Wilson walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here for you, Joaquim."

A downtrodden Mr. Silva nodded and left in a stoical manner.

Moments later House entered Wilson's office again. He threw the X-Ray at him and pointed. "You owe me two bills."

"I swear you have the worst timing."

"More like you."

"How so?"

"You've interrupted Cuddy and me many times pre and post coitus. What? What's with the face?" He waited a beat. "Grow up."

"_House, I was telling a patient he was dying._"

"We're all dying. The minute after we're born, Wilson. Circle of life."

"I know." He looked down for a moment. "But it never gets any easier telling someone, does it?"

"No, it doesn't." House approached Wilson's side. "Are you, okay?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"Good."

He held his palm out.

"Now cough up the money."

Wilson pulled out his wallet and placed two one hundred dollar bills in his hand. He was about to hand it over to House but then decided to retract his hand at the very last minute. "Wait." He examined the X-Ray a bit more closely. "How do I know this isn't a fake?"

"I can assure you Wilson, it's not a fallacy."

"But, you've tricked me many times in the past before. You're just playing with me?"

"This isn't a game."

Wilson stood his ground.

"Okay. You want proof?"

House reached into the inside of his lab coat pocket, pulled out a beautifully hand carved back scratcher. It was twenty-two inches long and made of solid oak. The front end was uniquely shaped like a cobra's head.

"Here. Here it is. Here you go." He waved it in the air and tossed it at Wilson.

"What the?"

Frightened, Wilson jumped and defensively covered his head. The back scratcher hit him in the leg then clamored to the ground.

"Relax." House held up the back scratcher and pointed it in Wilson's face. "It's sterilized."

"Yeah, you should be too."

Foreman and Chase approached Wilson's office. They had been trying to look for House. Once they reached his office they couldn't help but hear Wilson yell, "House! Get that away from me!"

"You asked for it." House jabbed the back scratcher at Wilson's abdomen.

"Stop."

"No."

"Stop that!"

House resumed prodding Wilson with the back scratcher.

"Stop trying to poke me?"

"Wilson. Will you just look at it? It's huge. Can you imagine this rammed all the way up your ass?"

Foreman and Chase looked at each other with widened eyes and decided not to interrupt whatever was happening on the other side of the door between House and Wilson. They quickly left the scene.

Repulsed, Wilson answered, "No, I can't and don't want to."

House gave the back scratcher a once-over. "Honestly, I don't know even know how Cuddy can handle all my seventeen inches."

"You're disgusting."

House cleared his throat and placed the back scratcher on Wilson's desk. "Show me the money, Wilson."

He was about to hand over the money to House but stopped again. "Wait. I've seen this. You keep this in your desk."

"You've been rifling through my drawers behind my back?"

Wilson grabbed the back scratcher and threw it back at House. "This is yours!"

House began laughing. "Damn."

"I knew it!"

"You are so gullible, Wilson. Unfortunately, the truth remains the same."

Wilson tilted his head and folded his arms.

"Yes, that back scratcher may be mine, but the _real_ _one _is still somewhere deep in a patient right now."

Wilson began placing the money back into his wallet.

"Go see it for yourself then. I'm sure he's in surgery now. You may have to fight the crowd in the observation deck though. There are other bets in place."

"Such as?"

"Well, I get another fifty bucks if it's not made out of plastic, like Hourani seems to think. So, either give me the money or go watch the extrication for your sick, twisted viewing pleasure."

Wilson handed House the money. "On second thought, I'll take your word for it."

"Thank you." He tucked the bills into his right breast pocket that was adorned with his official PPTH name badge.

Wilson suspiciously looked at House up and down. "So, what's with the lab coat and tie anyway? I thought you said you never be caught dead in one of those?"

"No. I said I'd never be caught dead in one of your ties." He grabbed the boring striped maroon silk piece of fabric, "Oh. This is one of yours," and flicked it in the air.

Wilson rolled his eyes.

House grabbed the lapels of his coat. "Cuddy finds me irresistible when I wear one of these."

"Maybe she pretends to act that way because she wants you to act like an adult and wear the damn thing like the rest of us doctors."

"No, I'm pretty sure this makes her hot. She's really into role-playing."

"I'm so glad I asked."

House placed his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave Wilson's office. "Hey, got any plans for lunch?"

"No. _Why?_"

"Nothing. I just thought you'd like to join Cuddy and me in the cafeteria. You look like you could use a little company, especially after the appointment with your last patient."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I could use a break."

House looked at his watch. "Say, in about half an hour?" He pulled out the two hundred dollars out of his pocket and held it up. "I'm buying. Well, technically you are."

Wilson looked over his appointment calendar. "I can do that."

"Great. See you then."

As soon as House went back to his office, Wilson ducked out of his and headed toward surgery. House, meanwhile sent all of the ducklings down to clinic and tried to find something to do other than work for the next thirty minutes.

It was a perfect plan. He would get out of doing clinic and make Cuddy mad. Her adrenaline would rush, her pulse would heighten and she'd jump his bones in a heartbeat.

House smiled and laced his hands behind his head, reclining back in his chair. "Her lips say 'no', but her hormones say…"

His cell phone rang.

He picked it up from his desk and looked at the Caller ID. Private Number. He ignored the phone call and let it go directly to voicemail. After the message was completed, he checked it almost immediately. _I Will Possess Your Heart_, the same song from the previous message played in his ear.

His thoughts turned toward Cuddy, the one person that made him feel something other than the numbness in his heart. Made him feel love and be loved in return. _She _had always been the only one that has everpossessed _his _heart.

Who was trying to convince him otherwise?


	4. Chapter 4

House sat alone at a corner booth in the hospital cafeteria anxious as hell and noticeably nervous. He felt like he was under a microscope. Everyone kept staring at him, whispering and wondering. He figured he was in the spotlight for one of two reasons. He was wearing a lab coat, a rarity in itself—bound to be noticed by the entire hospital staff.

Or perhaps it was the more obvious—his throbbing erection that literally entered the room before he did. It was hard to conceal it from everyone. Someone was sure to have seen it and pointed at it. He trembled a little as he wiped away the beads of sweat building up along his forehead with the back of his hand. Then he tucked it back in his lap and between his legs.

It had been nearly five hours since he and Cuddy had started this little wicked game of sorts and he was finding it hard to concentrate on work, on anything. It was absolutely ridiculous. All he could think about was sex. Having sex every which way with Cuddy in his office, in her office, in the elevator, janitor's closet, Sleep Lab, everywhere in the hospital—even Coma Guy's room and more disturbingly, the Morgue. House was bent on the verge of breaking and losing the bet.

He slipped his hand into his coat pocket, grabbed his bottle of Vicodin and popped the lid off. Curious, he studied the two blue pills in the palm of his hand and examined the label on the bottle. It had his name on it and the correct prescription label. Inside the bottle, however, was a mixture of Vicodin and more blue pills. Viagra.

He sighed relief for a minute because this explained why he'd been feeling extremely horny and a sporting a hard-on for the last forty-five minutes that he couldn't get rid of no matter what he did.

House underestimated Cuddy. She was actually a very good competitor, always challenging him. Never in a million years did he think she would scheme and do something like this.

He smiled and clutched the bottle in his hands, imagining having his way with Cuddy once more. "Mark my words Cuddy, you are going to pay dearly for this over and over and over again. I'm going to fuck you so hard and so good, you'll be walking funny like me for the next week."

He drifted back to reality and lifted his head up as he heard the loud clickety-clack of Cuddy's Fuck-Me Pumps. She was walking toward him carrying a tray of food in her hands.

House immediately noticed that she was wearing a different outfit from earlier that day. Instead of a white-collared blouse and matching black tweed jacket and skirt, she wore a bright red low cut blouse that cinched at the waist along with a tight black skirt.

Her beautiful breasts bounced ever so slightly with every step she took and were quite visibly on display. The top halves of her sumptuous, creamy fun bags emerged through the top of the silky fabric, instantly making him rock hard. They almost appeared to be giggling at him, bobbing up and down like that. Two things were for sure: Cuddy's breasts could hardly contain themselves inside her blouse and House could hardly contain himself in his jeans. He was practically bursting at the seams.

House couldn't help but ogle her cleavage as she approached him at the table. "You don't need to stoop that low to get my attention."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration?"

He swallowed hard and tried to turn away. "No. But your friends Patti and Selma did."

Cuddy threw a paper napkin at his face. It stuck to his sweaty face. "What's with the shvitz?"

"What's with the outfit?"

"I asked you first."

"Then I plead the fifth."

"Are you screwing with me?"

"Absolutely."

"Please, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"You're not playing fairly."

"And I can't believe what I'm hearing." Cuddy heartily laughed. "House, I had to change my clothes because your scent was all over me." She grabbed her blouse off left her shoulder and inhaled the fabric. "See? Now, I don't reek of desperation anymore."

"Scent of a man."

"Honestly, this was the only thing I could find to put on in my office." She looked at him doe-eyed and spoke, "I didn't mean for the peep show."

House coughed and uttered, "Bullshit," under his breath.

She gave him a look and then gestured to the empty side of booth. "Is this seat taken?"

House leered at her ass. "You know damn well it is."

She placed her tray on the table and sat across from him keeping her gaze. Then brushed her leg against his under the table while crossing hers. Her foot moved slowly up and down the inside of his leg.

"I'm amazed. So far, you've been a good boy all day, keeping your hands and your comments to yourself. "

"You've been holding up well yourself too."

Cuddy peered under table and snickered. "Likewise."

He looked down at his erect penis protruding along the fabric of his jeans. "Oh? You noticed that, huh?"

"Well, yeah. Who couldn't?"

His face turned a light shade of red. "Wait! Backup a sec. You got naked in your office and didn't invite me?"

"Stop trying to change the subject. I'm sorry to report that _you __lo-hos-ost!"_

"What? That? It has a mind of it's own, you know? You can't possibly hold that against me."

"Okay then, I'll hold it against me," she whispered under her breath.

House strained his ears. "Did you say, 'Hold _it?'_ 'Cause that's what it sounded like you said."

Cuddy didn't give an answer. She just stared at him in a naively innocent manner.

"You're skating on some pretty thin ice Cuddy, talking to me like that and doing that thing with your leg. You think you can bend the rules in this game?"

"I'm doing no such thing."

"I know about the pill swap, Cuddy."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do!"

"Okay, maybe I do. But I never specifically said that we couldn't…"

"That's totally cheating."

"No it's not! Puh-lease! And I don't need to cheat to win," Cuddy flicked his name badge on his lab coat, "You on the other hand…"

"What? This? I'm just trying to please my boss by doing my job and setting an example."

"Liar."

"Honest to God."

"You don't believe in God."

"You caught me on a technicality. Did it work?"

"What work?"

"The lab coat? Did it at least turn you on a little?"

Cuddy lied. "Nope." She leaned over the table, her breasts dangerously close to falling out of her blouse. She whispered into his ear. "House, you're not going to win." Then she gently blew in and around his ear, her hot breath tickled and sent goose bumps all over his body. She slowly drew her mouth away and sat back down ready to devour her meal and House.

She had a plate of pasta with Alfredo sauce, a tossed, fresh green salad and another plate of fresh fruit consisting of a handful of strawberries, a small bunch of plump, red grapes and one ripe nectarine.

"I'm not going to win? What makes you think that?"

She pointed at his plate. It was piled high with celery. "The Celery."

"I don't get it."

"House have you forgotten that I'm an Endocrinologist? Celery contains Androsterone, the pheromone released from _your_ sweat glands and partly responsible for turning _me_ on. Look at you." She wiped his brow. "You're practically leaking. And who eats a plate full of celery for lunch anyway?"

"You're right. I can't do this, Cuddy."

"Told ya."

He got up from the table. "As a matter of fact, I think this whole thing—us—was a big mistake." Then he walked away.

Cuddy panicked a little. "What? What are you talking about?"

He whipped his head back at her, smirking. "I was having a conversation with my plate of celery." He held the plate near his face and continued "their" conversation. "I mean, really? What the hell was I thinking? I can't have you for lunch. I'm going to go and get some real food."

Cuddy called after him, "House?"

"Cuddy?"

She motioned for him to come hither.

He returned to the table. "Geez, I can't leave you for two seconds? Talk about no self-control."

"House, I'm just trying to save you from a little embarrassment, but you might want to cover up that thing." She discreetly pointed to Little Greg. "You don't want the cashier to think you're sticking up the joint, do ya?"

"Oh? Oh! Right."

She got up from the table. "Why don't I go and get you something?"

He sat back down. "Great. I'm in the mood for…"

"I know what you're in the mood for and you're not going to get it."

"Sure I can."

"Rule book says no."

"I can't have a slice of pepperoni and sausage pizza?"

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were talking about…"

"And what if I was?" House intensely stared at Cuddy, his blue eyes piercing right through her, instantly hypnotizing her. His penetrating gaze, intimating her to make a move and initiating some type of pleasurable response. They unveiled the truth that he desired him just as much as she did.

A pool of warmth swirled about her stomach, her whole body tingled.

And then it happened.

An orgasm! Resulting from their eye sex! Was that even possible?

Now _Cuddy's _face was flushed. She needed to get away from him fast and compose herself. "I better get you that pizza." She bolted toward the long cafeteria line.

Ten minutes later Cuddy rejoined House at the table and much to her dismay, Wilson. She sat down next to Wilson and across from House with a plate of two slices of thin-crusted pizza.

House smiled at Cuddy. "I invited Wilson to lunch."

"Oh?"

"You brought your friends, Patti and Selma. I brought mine."

Wilson questioned Cuddy, "I'm not intruding, am I?"

"No." She slipped off her stiletto and rubbed her bare foot up against House's leg, starting from the outside and working her way to the inside of his leg. "Not at all."

Her foot moved onward and upwards near House's crotch while she began eating her pasta. She purposely slurped up the noodles off her fork with every bite, creamy alfredo sauce all around her mouth and dripping down her chin.

House shifted in his seat. "That's attractive." He grabbed a piece of fruit off Cuddy's plate and stared at her while addressing his friend. "Wilson, did you know that the nectarine is commonly referred to as the shaven peach?"

He took a bite out of it. The nectarine's juices simultaneously ran down his tongue and down his chin.

Wilson glanced back and forth at the two of them in silence for the next few minutes while they played with their food and each other. "So are your friends going to join us?" He scanned the cafeteria. "We might need a bigger table."

"There's already a crowd," House interjected.

Cuddy wiped her mouth and looked at Wilson. "What friends?"

"Patti and Selma? Did I hear that right?"

House nearly choked on the piece of fruit and erupted in laughter. He pounded his fist against the table, resulting his cane to fall to the floor. He wiped away the tears forming from all that laughter and bent his head down underneath the table to retrieve his cane.

Cuddy uncrossed her legs and parted them so far until her skirt grew taut.

House clutched his cane as he stared into the dark abyss between her legs. His eyes widened then his head smacked against the bottom of the table. He wasn't expecting to see anything else other than a small black triangle of fabric. Instead there was nothing there.

He thought that he was hallucinating and imagining what he wanted to see. He shook his head and closed his eyes real tight before opening them again.

Still. Nothing.

Third time was the charm, but not in this case.

Cuddy mysteriously lost her panties and he was about to lose his mind.

Wilson called out, "House?"

House quickly appeared from under the table.

"Are you okay?"

Cuddy cunningly smiled. "What's the matter? _Cat_ caught _your tongue_?"

House raised his voice a bit louder and grabbed the left side of his parietal lobe, "I think I hit _my head real hard_."

"It must be throbbing?"

"Oh, it is."

Cuddy picked up her purse. "I have something in my office that I can give you to take care of that. It would definitely clear up that problem you're having _right now."_

Wilson quizzically looked at Cuddy as she stood up from the table. She looked flushed.

"And," she added while clearing her throat. "I have a case for you. I can _debrief_ _you_ a_long_ the way, you know, give you the _blow-by-blow_, if you'd like?" She moved behind Wilson craning her neck a few times in the direction toward her office.

House sounded a bit too eager, "Yeah?"

And in a swift motion he rose from his seat and smacked his left thigh against the bottom of the table.

"Damn it! I swear this table is out to get me." He grabbed his leg with one hand then slapped his cane against the tabletop with the other.

Wilson came to House's aid and placed his hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

House placed his jacket over the front of his jeans and tried to exit the booth. "I'm fine. Just fine. Really.

Then House and Cuddy proceeded to leave the cafeteria at an unusually fast pace.

Wilson rolled his eyes and spoke aloud to no one in particular. "Mmm-hmm. Yeah, clearly those two have their hormones in check."

Cuddy noticed that House's limping was more prominent. She stopped him down the hallway. "Are you really okay?"

"I'm fine. Cuddy, please tell me there isn't a case. I know what happened back there."

She shyly admitted, "No case."

"I knew it. You lost."

"We both did. Let's call it a tie and leave it at that, okay?"

"Come on, I'll race, ya," he added with his trademark smirk.

"No, you can't."

"Well, that's just mean."

"But it's the truth." Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"I can outrun you any day, especially today of all days. Not because you have been traipsing around in four-inch heels but because as an added bonus you seem to not be wearing any underwear."

"_Shh! House, shut up_." Cuddy looked around to see if anyone heard them.

"Good luck trying to muster the strength to move forward fast. Every quick, short stride you take in that tight ass skirt would only cause more friction and rubbing. You really think you have a chance?"

"Wanna bet?"

"Yes."

"Okay. This time I make the terms of the bet. If I win, I get to jerk you around in my office. If you win I still jerk you around."

House tapped his cane. "Only fair to give me a head start."

Her eyes lowered to his bulging crotch. "Oh, I think I've already given you that."

Then she took off.


	5. Chapter 5

Cuddy was in her office sitting on the edge of her desk. Her legs were crossed with her skirt hiked up a little. She was eagerly anticipating House's arrival for an afternoon delight. Finally he entered her office.

"Took you long enough."

"You try running a three-legged race with a cane."

She arched her brow. "Three-legged?"

He gyrated his pelvis.

"Maybe a baby's arm." Cuddy uncrossed her legs in the same fashion that Sharon Stone did in _Basic Extinct_.

House slowly blinked while she flashed him. "You got…that…right. Anyway, I'm late because my team called me."

Cuddy frowned. "You've got a case?"

"I don't know. I didn't pick up my phone. I've been getting weird calls lately."

He motioned for her to turn around then he bent her over the desk.

"Anyway, they can wait. You and I, however, can't."

He hiked her skirt up to her waist, parted her legs and devoted his attention to her nether regions. Two of his fingers swirled around her squish mitten, occasionally disappearing into her heat. He proudly smiled. "Tsk, tsk. You were giving me such a hard time about dripping? Ha! What do you call this?"

"Yours if you'll have your way with me now."

House immediately dropped his jeans to his ankles and entered her. His fingers continued to work their magic, sending wave after wave of gratification. Her breathing quickened and matched his pace. She was on the verge of having an incredible orgasm when suddenly House's phone rang.

Mmmbop, ba du ba dop

Ba du bop, ba du ba dop

Ba du bop, ba du ba dop

Ba du –

House stopped and reached into his coat pocket. He fumbled his phone in his hand and turned it off. "No more interruptions."

"House. We know that you're in there. We can hear your phone. Open the door," Foreman said, as he, Chase, Taub and Thirteen stood outside Cuddy's office.

"_No!" _ House muttered under his breath.

"Oh my God!" Cuddy's nails scratched along the surface of her desk while House continued nailing here.

He pumped faster and harder."Come on, come on, cum."

Foreman began knocking on the door."House. House?"

"Oh God!" Cuddy's body quivered and pulsated as pleasure ran up and down the length of her body. "Oh, God. Oh, God! Oh, God!" She bit down on a box of Kleenex, trying to cover up the moans escaping from her mouth.

The knocking became louder and more persistent.

Cuddy looked back at House. _"Hide!"_

"Where?" House fell a few times attempting to pull up his jeans while racing over to her bathroom.

Cuddy tried to regain her composure before opening the door. Even though she had straightened her skirt and primped her hair, she still looked disheveled. Her blouse was half-tucked into her skirt, her makeup was smudged a bit and her hair was out of place. She took in a deep breath and opened the door anyway.

"Whoa!" Taub blurted out, "What happened to you?"

Cuddy scowled. "Gee, you're pretty rude." She leaned against the doorframe, blocking House's team from entering her office.

Foreman drew closer to Cuddy looking very concerned. "Dr. Cuddy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I had taken an antihistamine a few hours ago and must have fallen asleep on the couch."

"You're flushed and you're breathing fast and heavy."

"Well, yeah. You scared me the crap out of me. All that loud banging at the door startled me from my slumber."

Thirteen peered into the office. "Where's House?"

"How do you mean?"

House buckling his belt and leaned up against the bathroom door able to overhear part of the conversation going on in Cuddy's office.

"Where's is he?" Thirteen asked again.

Cuddy threw her arms up in the air. "I don't know. I haven't seen him all day."

Chase furrowed his brows. "Wilson said all three of you just had lunch. According to him you and House went back to your office less than ten minutes ago."

"_Wilson!" _House clutched his fist. He had to rescue Cuddy from his team. But first, he had to get rid of the tent pitched in his jeans. It was time to think of a total turn off.

Julia Cuddy—completely naked.

His face contorted in disgust. He shook his head from side to side like an etch-a-sketch, immediately erasing the thought. Instead he dropped his drawers and beat his meat. It was time to jerk off.

"We never made it to my office," Cuddy reported. "House ditched me for the pharmacy."

Foreman noticed House's cell phone on the floor, pushed his way through the door and picked it up. "Then how did his phone get in here?"

Cuddy's annoyance and frustration grew. "Look. Do you see him? He's obviously not here. I don't know where he is."

"House? House?" Taub called out for him again.

"Looking for me?" House stepped out of the bathroom.

"What were you doing in there?"

Cuddy repeated the same question. "Yeah, what were you doing in there?"

"I was taking measurements."

Chase tilted his head to the side. "Of what?"

"My penis?"

Everyone in the room said,_ "What?" _

"No idiots! I've been trying to convince Cuddy for months to put a bidet in there and get rid of the toilet. And she agreed. I was in there taking measurements for the contractors." House slightly nodded at Cuddy. "Right Cuddy?"

Cuddy followed House's cue. "Yes. That's right. I think it's a great idea, don't you?"

Thirteen scratched the side of her head. "But you said that you were asleep on the couch. How were you carrying on a conversation with her?"

"She talks in her sleep," House revealed.

Cuddy's eyes widened. _"House!"_

Foreman folded his arms. "You guys to have an answer for everything. Come on, what were you _really_ doing in there?"

"Why does it even matter?" House moved away from the bathroom door. "Fine. Fine. You want to hear the truth? Cuddy…and I…are…"

Cuddy blurted out, "are trying to cover up the fact that…House has horrible gas. Diarrhea."

House's voice was an octave higher. "_What?"_ He gave her a look. "_Really? Really? Is that what you're going to tell them?"_

"He took too much Vicodin within the last twenty four hours and was so constipated a laxative was necessary. Guess you took too much of that too?"

House placed his hand over his face.

"Now look he's embarrassed," Cuddy retorted.

House cleared his throat and spoke in a nonchalant manner. "Yes, I had the misfortune of choosing Taub's lunch over the others in the break room and eating it. Long story short, this was the closest _men's_ _restroom _nearby."

Cuddy raised her brow as the team exchanged looks of disgust in unison.

House continued and fanned his hand from side to side. "Yep, that's the awful stinkin' truth. Anybody got a match? And a mop handy?"

Foreman pointed at the closed bathroom door. "But there was no sound of a flush. You didn't flush?"

"Couldn't."

Thirteen took a few steps back. "Eew! TMI House."

"Look, we can talk shit all day if you want but I assume there's a reason you all are here?"

"Cameron found us a case in the ER." Foreman tried to hand House the file he had. "The patient was…"

House held up his hand and swatted the file away. "Wait." He took in a deep breath. "Hold that thought. I have to…I'll…I'll…Ohhh…" He clutched his stomach with both hands and sucked in his breath. "You guys better give me a few minutes. Meet me in the DDX room."

Cuddy glanced over at House and half-smiled. "Only a few minutes?"

"Maybe Fifteen. Twenty?" House cleared his throat. "Thirty?" He looked back at his team before entering the bathroom, pretending to have cramps. "I may be a while. I'll probably see you in half an hour." Then slammed the bathroom door shut.

Thirteen cringed. "Lovely."

Taub addressed the team as they left Cuddy's office. "That was weird."

Thirteen nodded her head. "Totally."

"Do you think House and Cuddy are…"

Foreman and Chase chuckled.

"What?"

Chase glanced around and lowered his voice a little. "You've got it all wrong, Taub. Foreman and I heard Wilson and House…never mind I'll tell you later."

As they all walked to the elevator bank Thirteen curiously asked Taub, "By the way, what the hell were you going to have for lunch anyway?"

"I have no idea what he's talking about. I didn't even bring my lunch today!"

Foreman tapped his hand on Chase's shoulder. "Remind me never to eat anything from Taub's kitchen."

House stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Is the coast clear?"

Cuddy signed relief. "Whew! That was a close one."

"Hey next time leave the lying to me."

"I got rid of them, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but thanks to you I'm going to have to walk a little funnier around my team since they all think probably think my asshole is burning."

"Sorry."

"That's okay. I forgive you."

He wrapped his arms around her then began laughing.

"By the way, you're going to need a mop in there…and a ladder."

Cuddy kissed him sweetly on the cheek. "You're so funny."

"No, I'm serious. I sort of exploded everywhere in there." House pulled away. "Oh, before I forget, I have to ask. Have you been walking around all day without any undies?"

"No."

"Then how..."

"I went to the bathroom and slipped them off just before stepping back in the cafeteria line to buy you lunch. What did you think I had done?" She pulled him back toward her. "Better yet, don't answer that. Less talking and more doing."

He began sucking her earlobe and then pulled away from her again. "Where are they?"

"Where's what?"

"You're panties? Where are they?"

"Why?"

"Just tell me."

"Safe in my purse."

House scrambled to the couch, grabbed her purse and pulled them out, waving them high in the air. "Not any more."

"Give them to me!"

"No."

"_Give them to me!"_

"Uh-uh." He twirled the black thong around his finger.

She chased him around her desk. "House this isn't funny anymore. Hand them over."

"No."

"I'm only going to say this to you one more time. Give. Them. To. Me. Now."

"You're not the boss of me."

Cuddy arched her brow.

"Okay, maybe you are. But I'm keeping these." He clutched the pair of panties. "You lost the bet and your punishment starts now. You shall remain panty-less for the rest of the day."

"You're forgetting you lost too."

House bowed. "And you shall have your reward tomorrow morning—a delicious breakfast made in the buff by yours truly." He lifted his head. "Um, there's just one thing. I do get to wear an apron, right? No purpose for Little Greg to be in the kitchen—except maybe if you can't find the rolling pin—but that's beside the point. I'd hate to be scalded down there and…"

"Yes. You can wear an apron."

"Good. Because…"

"And go ahead and keep the underwear too. I mean it's not like it's a big deal anyway. This isn't going to be any different then the time you pulled that ridiculous stunt with your team candidates a couple of years ago."

"True…But nevertheless I'm still going to hang on to these." He shoved them into his coat pocket. "You know, Dr. Cole never did tell me exactly how he claimed possession of your thong."

"That secret is going to the grave with me."

"Speaking of secrets. What about keeping up this charade of ours? Do you want to continue and up the stakes in our little game?"

"The higher the better because we really should try harder to restrain ourselves at work."

"Absolutely." House nodded his head but appeared to be not listening.

"House? House?"

"What?" House shifted his focus at Cuddy. "I'm sorry. You lost me after restrain."

She lightly punched him in the arm. "Okay, so what are the stakes this time?"

He grinned ear to ear. "I get to watch you masturbate."

"What?" She heartily laughed. "No."

"Yes."

"Pick something else."

"Scared I'll win this time?"

"No." She stretched the word out. "Fine. Well, what happens if I win?"

House crinkled his brows. "I thought that was a win-win situation. No?"

Cuddy folded her arms and stared down at him.

"Okay. I'll make it more exciting for you. If you win," House thought hard for a moment, "I'll _actually _do my clinic hours."

"_What? _No."

"I'll share something very private with you."

"And?" Cuddy teased.

House turned away and looked down for a moment. "Cuddy," his voice was low, "you know me. It's hard for me to forge relationships, let alone open up to anyone. _The stakes are really high for me."_

Cuddy remained quiet.

"Fine. You want to be that way." He rolled up his sleeves on his lab coat. "Then, in addition to rubbin' the nubbin in front of me you'll also have to…"

"House. House! I accept the terms of the bet." Cuddy extended her arm toward him.

House followed her lead and firmly shook her hand. "Great." He futzed around with the doorknob a little before nervously exiting her office. He shut the door quickly, nearly slamming it behind him. The drawn mini-blinds rocked side to side and pounded on the other side against the glass door. He took in a deep breath then rested his back against the door and closed his eyes.

He pictured Cuddy—A totally uninhibited Cuddy.

Impure thoughts flooded through his mind: Cuddy masturbating with her hand, his hand and/or with other various conventional and unconventional implements.

House sweetly smiled, as he continued fantasizing about Cuddy. He couldn't help but applaud the notion of conjuring up the most magnificent reward. And Little Greg gave a standing ovation too.

_Shit._

Every time he would think about his prize for winning the bet he was guaranteed to fail. He was in a pickle. And all he could do was think about what she would do with his pickle.

Cuddy, meanwhile, grabbed a file folder and fanned her face. Her hormones were raging and House was driving her absolutely mad with all of these games. But this time it felt different. What was it, the excitement of the competition?

No. House was right. His idea _was_ a win-win situation. She had always fantasized about being wanton and wild—manipulating her body for him, only for him.

Cuddy placed the file over her face. "I won't give him the satisfaction of winning this bet this time." Then tossed it back onto her desk. "What have I done?"

She inched her way toward her office door almost sensing House's presence on the other side and opened it, startling House.

They stared long and deep into each other's eyes and then gravitated toward one another.

"Oh, who are we kidding?" Cuddy grabbed the waistband of his jeans and pulled him back into her office.

House fell backwards on the couch with Cuddy in his arms. Her warm breath filled the air, his spirit and his jeans as she glanced down at his lips.

He continued to stare hungrily at her mouth for what seemed like forever and lost focus of everything in the room, except for those luscious lips. He tried to contemplate his next move. Would he kiss her extra soft and sweet, hard and long or open mouthed and wet?

The moment her lips touched his he snapped back to reality. "The door?"

"Relax," she managed to sputter out in between kisses, "I locked it."

House turned his attention toward the door then back at Cuddy. "_Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" _He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out her black thong and placed if over his head, covering one eye with the small swatch of black satin. _ "_You may have locked it me beauty, but you failed to close it shut."

Cuddy whipped her head around and saw that the door was indeed open. "Oops." She copied his cartoon-voice. "Avast Ye Matey!__I'm on it."

"Trust me, ye bloody scallywag, you will be _on it_ in about five seconds from now."

She got up and headed for the door. With a swift motion she pushed it shut, unknowingly slamming the door in Cameron's face.

Cuddy rejoined House on the couch, "Come show me how ye bury yer treasure, Bilge rat!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed.

"You always know how to make me Roger Jolly."

She pressed her lips to his all the while smiling. "I think we really suck at this game?"

"Literally."

House began trailing kisses down her neck then tore open her blouse.

"_Oh, my God! You're not wearing a bra either."_

Cuddy mischievously smiled as he cupped her left breast with his right hand and suckled Selma hard. "By the way, I think that pirate talk is kind of sexy."

House stopped mid-suckle then slowly removed his mouth from her breast. "Well, blow me down!"

"Aye, aye Captain." She unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans and nearly swallowed him whole, milking him dry.

House moaned while his eyes rolled back into his head. "Thar she blows."


	6. Chapter 6

After the team left Cuddy's office, they gathered in the DDX room and waited for House to discuss the new case with them. Chase stood at the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. Meanwhile Foreman, Thirteen and Taub sat around the large glass conference table talking about House's odd behavior.

They all turned their attention to Cameron as she entered the room. "There is no sign of him anywhere. Do you think we should start without him?"

"No. Let's wait," Foreman advised.

"Yeah. He's just running a bit," Chase remarked.

Taub snickered. _"Running_ a bit late."

Another twelve minutes and twenty-nine seconds had passed.

"I bet he's pooped out," Taub mocked.

Twenty-one minutes and forty-three seconds later.

"Wow." Cuddy praised, staring up at the ceiling in her office.

"Wow," House repeated as he lifted his head sandwiched between her legs.

"Mmm." She tried to move but her pleasure zone kept pulsating and twitching. "Shiver me timbers, " she groaned with a huge grin on her face.

He licked his lips then ran his fingers over the bottom of his face, wiping around at the sides of his mouth. "Um, I think I just did."

"I know. And to think all you had to do was take away my panties, divide my legs and add your skillful tongue."

House arched his brow. "Any multiples in that equation?"

Cuddy gently pushed him off of her then got up from the couch. Despite still feeling weak in the knees, she tried to take a few steps, wobbled a bit and nearly tumbled into the wall.

"HA!" House proudly smiled as he peeled off his makeshift eye patch—her thong—away from his eye. "No need to answer that. Looks like you've got sea legs, ya landlubber."

"I think I gave you a pretty good ride too."

"The best." House playfully slapped her ass as she turned around, "Damn you've got the finest pirate's booty."

She adjusted her skirt that gathered at her waist back down to its original position, right at her knees. "But next time…"

"Yeah, yeah. Next time I won't be so lucky."

"No, next time we…"

"Cuddy, I know what you're going to say."

"House."

"There isn't going to be a next time until we're off the hospital premises and…"

"House! Shh!" Cuddy grabbed his lips until they puckered out like fish lips. "Stop interrupting me."

He stopped talking after she released her hands over his mouth.

"Let's face it. We both know _there is_ going to be a next time. Here at work. We're still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship and obviously can't control ourselves."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying next time try to refrain yourself from acting like a sex-crazed lunatic, literally tearing off my blouse. I have nothing else to wear."

She grabbed her white lab coat off of the coat rack in the corner and put it on. As she straightened out the collar, the tips of her fingers dipped into a sticky, milky substance over her throat.

House couldn't tell if she was irritated or not. "Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away." He nervously laughed and placed her thong back over her eye for a moment. "Didn't want a pearl necklace for your treasure chest?"

Cuddy didn't answer him and walked over to the bathroom. She ran a towel under the faucet and looked in the mirror, wiping away House's baby batter splattered on her neck and breasts. She patted her skin dry, fastened all of the buttons on her lab coat then walked back into her office.

House's jaw dropped. "It looks like you're not wearing anything under that." He suddenly felt very uncomfortable in his jeans again.

"Well, this is what I have to wear for the remainder of the day, thanks to you." She held up her shredded blouse.

"And thanks to you, this is what I have to wear for the remainder of the day." He craned his neck to the side revealing a very large, dark hickey forming near his jugular.

"Oh. My bad."

"Ya think?"

Cuddy carefully touched the side of his neck. "I didn't realize…I was only trying to stifle my…"

"I thought you wanted to keep this thing between us secret. If you're going to mark me try a less visible approach," he suggested.

She walked over to her desk, grabbed her purse and took out her compact. "Let me put a little make-up on it."

House winced as she began patting translucent powder at the site of the wound. He reached into his pocket, grabbed his bottle of Vicodin and carefully sorted through the pills in the palm of his hand, separating the Vicodin from the Viagra that Cuddy had secretly mixed in.

Cuddy reached out her hand. "I'll get rid of those for you."

"No. I may need them."

"Trust me. You don't need any…"

"Not for me." House placed the bottle back in his pocket. "Don't fret. We'll have a good laugh about later. Trust me."

Cuddy gave House's neck the once over. "There. All done." Then placed her compact back into her purse. "You can hardly notice it."

"Thanks." He glanced at his reflection in the window.

"Anyway, as long as our relationship doesn't interfere with hospital business, I'm okay with us…"

"Playing hide the salami at work?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say it like that but, yeah."

"Cool."

"That also means that all bets are off, House."

He frowned. "Okay. Not cool. Why?"

"We started this game under false pretences."

"Come on, this is fun. Why do you have to be such a killjoy?"

Cuddy extended her hand toward House. "Can I have my thong back please?"

"No."

"I'm asking you as your girlfriend."

"No."

"Okay. Now I'm asking you as your boss. Give them to me or…or…we're not having any more sex."

"But then you would be punishing yourself?"

"House, I'm being serious."

"So am I!"

"Hand them over."

"Nope. These stay with me." He closed his eyes, sighed and inhaled the silky fabric. "Mmm-hmm. Ode de Cuddy."

"House."

House glanced at his watch. "Oh. Will you look at that?" He raced to the door.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

He turned around to face her, clutching her panties with his right hand over his heart. "I'm sorry, Cuddy. My team needs me." Then tucked them back into his breast pocket.

"Get back here. _House!_ _House!"_

But it was too late. He was already out the door.

Exactly two minutes later.

"What do you think is taking him so long?" Cameron whined.

"Oh, you didn't hear. He's got the runs." Taub chuckled to himself.

Thirteen shook her head. "You better be careful. If House heard you…"

"I think it's hilarious that the doctor who can't run has the runs."

House stealthily entered the DDX room, overhearing Taub's last comment. He slapped his cane on the tabletop causing Taub to jump in his seat. "Good one, macro-nose with the micropenis."

Everyone in the room burst into laughter except for Taub that is.

House continued, "Tell me Tiny Taub, how does it feel hearing 'Is it in yet?' every time you score with the ladies?"

Taub folded his arms. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's no secret your penis is similar in size to that of the common shrew. They're known for having the smallest pee-pee in the animal kingdom, ya know?"

Chase stifled a laugh. "Bummer."

"Well, I can assure you it's not!" Taub shouted.

Foreman snickered. "Most of the time."

Taub looked coldly at Foreman.

"What? I've seen you in the locker room."

"It's cold in there."

The room erupted in laughter once again.

"Shut up! I'm acutely sensitive to the cold air."

Cameron chimed in. "Um, excuse me. You have a patient who needs a diagnosis."

She distributed the file folders to the team. "Seventeen year-old Jennifer Drake was rushed to the ER after her parents found her nearly unconscious on the floor of her bedroom. She had been complaining of a really bad sore throat, headaches and fever for the past week and a half. Her doctor dismissed her symptoms…"

House rolled his eyes. "Of course he did. Let me see that." He reached for one of the files in Cameron's hand. "What are you doing here anyway? You could have just handed over the case." He thumbed his belt loops and puffed his chest out. "Can't stay away from me, huh?"

"No! I'm here because…because I found the case."

"No need to be so defensive. I was just joking."

"Oh."

Thirteen looked over the patient's chart. "It says here that he sent her home after tests for Mono and Strep came back negative and put her on broad-spectrum antibiotics."

House flipped through the stack of pages. "When did she develop the peritonsillar abscess?"

"This morning I guess," Cameron said. "She woke up feeling light-headed, in a puddle of drool. Also had difficulty swallowing."

"Hey, who doesn't?" House said right as Wilson walked into the DDX room. "Were you ears ringing? We were just talking about you."

Wilson pulled House aside. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure."

"Privately."

House turned his attention back toward his team. "Foreman and Chase do a CT scan, another strep test and surgically drain the abscess. Thirteen check the home for toxins."

The ducklings stood up from the table then froze as House began talking again.

"On second thought, Taub and Cameron do all that stuff I just said. Everyone else's name that I did not call put your feet up and take a load off."

"Why me? Why do I have to do all the grunt work?" Taub objected.

"Because I said so. Do you need another reason? "Cause I've got about another dozen."

Taub shrugged and left the room.

"And why me, House?" Cameron pondered.

"Because you brought us the case."

"So?" She stepped into his personal space. "I'm not on your team anymore."

"Yes, but I also need to keep tabs on you."

Cameron's face flushed a little as she stared into House's eyes. "Someone should be keeping a close eye on you."

Wilson interrupted, stepping in between Cameron and House. "Can we please talk now?" Then he noticed Cameron's face. "Cameron, are you okay?"

Cameron backed off and fanned her shirt. "It feels like its ninety degrees in here."

"Here." House pulled out Cuddy panties out of his breast pocket and handed it to her to wipe her forehead dry.

She accepted what she thought was a silk handkerchief and then dropped it realizing when it wasn't. "Ugh. What is this?"

Chase side stepped over to Foreman and whispered, "Those are probably Wilson's. He's more effeminate than House."

"Now, House. Now! We need to talk now!" Wilson barked.

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a twist."

Chase and Foreman bobbed their heads up and down saying, "Mmm-hmm," in unison.

"Okay, I'll be back in a second." House followed Wilson into his office. He sat on top of his desk while Wilson paced the room. "What's so important?"

Wilson stopped in his tracks. "Why does everybody think we had sex?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" House fondled Cuddy's black satin thong in his hands before placing it back into his pocket.

"There's a bunch of stupid rumors going around the hospital staff about us."

"Hate to burst your bubble Wilson, but a lot of folks have already thought that our relationship has gone beyond a bromance."

"Where would they ever get that idea?"

"I wouldn't know." He walked over to his door. "Would you excuse me for a moment?"

Wilson nodded his head as House stuck his out of his office and into the DDX room.

"This may take a while, kids. Lover's spat."

"House!" Wilson was becoming increasingly annoyed. "That wasn't funny."

He closed the door behind him. "It kind of was."

"All this and you is giving me a headache."

"I have something that can relieve your pain instantly." House dug into his pocket and whipped out his bottle of Vicodin.

"Vicodin? Forget it. Just taking that will make my headache even worse."

House shook out two blue pills in the palm of his hand and extended it toward Wilson. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Relax. It's Aleve. Cuddy gave them to me. Remember I bumped my head under the table in the cafeteria?"

"You mean you _actually had_ a headache? I thought you and Cuddy were…you know?"

"Were what?"

"You know?" Wilson made a loose fist with one hand and then shoved the index finger of his other in an out of the opening.

"I'm not following."

"Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Just spit it out Wilson."

"Sex! S-E-X. I'm talking about sex!"

House looked directly at his team, minus Taub and Cameron, through the glass walls of his office. "At work? Are you mad?" he mocked loudly.

Foreman, Chase and Thirteen all exchanged looks.

Wilson massaged his temples. "Stop being an ass."

House shook the vile in his hands. The pills rattled around. "You still need something to relieve that pain?"

"Thanks." He grabbed the pills from House. "Would you do me a favor?"

"What do you want now Wilson?"

"Get rid of the cute stuffed animal. I don't mind the rumors as much as long as they don't involve me being in love with you."

"What are you talking about?"

Wilson pointed at a grey plush hippopotamus resting on top of House's desk near his laptop. "Congratulations. I didn't even know you were at that stage of your relationship."

The hippo had rosy cheeks and held a bright red heart that read "I Love You".

"Neither did I," House uttered under his breath.

"You guys should slow down. You seem to be moving pretty fast."

Wilson placed a hand on House's shoulder.

"I'd hate to see you get hurt."

House picked up the hippo. "That's strange. I didn't see this on my desk before. It's nice, but honestly I wish Cuddy had said it to my face rather than on some safari animal." He placed the toy back down on his desk. "I also wanted to be the one to say it first."

Shortly after Wilson left the office, House sat down on his chair and ottoman, and clutched the soft hippo, throwing back a couple more Vicodin down his throat and staring off into space.

Three hours and sixteen seconds later.

House was still in his office, only this time he was sitting at his desk, peeved. Peeved because his office phone kept ringing off the hook for the past twenty minutes. And whenever he picked up the phone, the caller would immediately hang up.

He looked up as he heard his phone ring again then saw half of his team walk by his office. He grabbed his cane, limped toward the door and stuck his head out of his office. "Hey, have you guys been trying to get a hold of me?"

Foreman, Chase and Thirteen turned around.

Thirteen placed her hands in her lab coat pockets. "No. We're on our way to see Cameron and Taub though."

"Jennifer has developed some minor facial swelling and is experiencing problems with her speech," Chase reported.

House scrunched his face. "Who's Jennifer?"

"The patient."

"Whatever. So far this is not sounding like a case to me."

"That's what we thought. But Cameron said the patient's now having trouble concentrating and remembering things, like the names of some of her friends that paid her a visit a half hour ago."

"What did the test results show?" House inquired.

Foreman handed House over a file. "CT scan and strep test came back negative."

House looked over the lab reports. "She's got a high white blood cell count and low Potassium levels. Did Cameron or the little troll find anything toxic in the home?"

"No," Foreman responded.

"Do a CAT Scan and continue monitoring her neurological status. Report back to me if there's any news or change."

"Okay."

As Foreman, Chase and Thirteen stalked off, House's office phone rang again.

He walked over to his desk, hesitant to pick it up at first, but then noticed Cuddy's office extension displayed in the phone monitor. He picked up his phone and his over-sized tennis ball.

He smiled into the phone. "Hi."

"Hi. I just wanted to give you a heads up about dinner tonight. Instead of going to the Blue Moon Grill as originally planned, let's do something else." Cuddy began twirling the spiral cord on her desk phone. "Like, we could go back to my place, order some takeout, curl up on the couch and watch a movie?"

"Sounds great. Except I can't."

Cuddy could hear House toss the ball against the wall in the background. "Your patient's not doing well?"

"No. I should probably stay here at the hospital and figure out a diagnosis before the patient dies or something."

"I understand. It would be irresponsible if you left." She tried to cover her disappointment. "It's just as well. I mean I really need to go home, take a shower and rest."

"Yes, you should rest up for later. You'll need it." House laughed. "By the way, I got your present. Is this your way of telling me I'm an animal in bed?"

Cuddy laughed. "House, what are you talking about?"

"The hippo."

"The hippo?"

House suspiciously eyed the plush hippopotamus. "Yeah, the hip…hippo…hip…"

"I haven't a clue what you're saying."

"Um, you didn't place a…?" He picked up the toy and traced over the embroidered white block letters on the heart. "Never mind. It's nothing."

"What? Come on, I didn't place what?"

"A hip…a steel hip prosthesis on my desk. I thought you were trying to tell me that your hip was giving out because we've been fucking so much."

"That's weird. I think somebody is just playing with you."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I'm going to go home right now so I can beat traffic. I'll see you soon?"

"Promise I'll be home in time to tuck you in."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

As soon as House hung up the phone, it rang again. He smiled and immediately picked it up.

"Yes, mistress?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone except this time he heard slow, deep breathing.

"Cuddy?"

He looked down at the Caller ID display and saw that it said Private.

Then the line suddenly disconnected.


	7. Chapter 7

House was deep in thought throwing his over-sized tennis ball against the wall in his office. He tried to think about his latest case, but his mind kept wandering off about the mysterious gift left on top of his desk.

He swiveled his chair around and unconsciously threw the ball at the same time as he heard someone enter the room. And that someone was Wilson. The ball ricocheted off the wall at an odd angle toward him.

Wilson jumped and threw his arms up in the air. "House!"

"Wilson!" House mocked back.

"You _almost_ hit me."

"Damn, can I get a do-over?"

Wilson rolled his eyes.

"No? Perhaps another time then." He quickly changed the subject. "So, how's that headache of yours?"

Wilson rubbed his forehead. "Not any better."

"And you thought seeing _me_ would help? I'm the one who normally gives you a headache."

"I know. But this time I was hoping for…"

"Let me guess, you want this?" House opened his top desk drawer and tossed a prescription bottle over to Wilson. "It did wonders for my head."

Wilson shook two blue pills out and popped them into his mouth. "I mean…it hasn't taken the headache away completely…but it's making me feel…feel good," he said as he swallowed them dry.

House tried to stifle a laugh. "Keep the bottle."

"I appreciate that. Thanks." He placed the bottle into his front pant pocket. "How's your case?"

"Haven't figured out a diagnosis yet."

"Oh. Right. You were playing with Ball-y and I interrupted." Wilson began to back out of the office. "Well, I'll let you be. I've got a patient waiting for me anyway. We'll talk later."

Twenty minutes later…

Thirty-five year old Elizabeth Sawyer sat quietly in an examination room in a loose-fitting hospital gown. She chewed on her nails and glanced around that room at all of the women's health posters. Her eyes focused on one depicting how to do breast self-examination. She gnawed a bit harder at her fingertips as her nerves bundled.

Suddenly Wilson knocked then entered the room. "Hi. I'm Dr. Wilson. You're here for a hump?"

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "A what?"

He nervously laughed. "Did I just say hump? I meant _hump_. Lump. _A lump_. _I meant a lump_." He repeated the word again a lot slower this time and then spelled it out loud.

The patient looked at him strangely as a silent void filled the room.

Wilson felt the blood rushing to his head and he knew for sure his face was flushed. He tried to compose himself and cleared his throat. "Okay Elizabeth, I need you lie back on the table and place your right arm behind your head."

The patient followed his instructions and assumed the position.

"Good. I'm just going to open your gown and check for signs of any dimpling, swelling and of course, lumps."

He reached over her and moved the pads of his fingers firmly, yet gently around her collarbone and sternum, then prodded the tissue near her armpit.

"No abnormalities."

The patient then spoke as he began examining her breasts, gliding his fingers in a grid-like fashion and circling the outer edge to the center. "You know, my girlfriend is the one who actually felt it."

"Mmm-Hmm." Wilson nodded he head as he continued taking his time rubbing her right breast. "_That feels good_."

Elizabeth giggled slightly. "Yeah, it does."

Wilson's face turned redder. He couldn't believe what he was saying and tried to cover. "I meant that I detected no abnormalities."

"Oh. I feel stupid. I thought you were coming on to me."

_I was actually thinking about cumming on you,_ Wilson thought as he moved his hand over to her left breast, working the flesh. To his dismay felt some swelling and a hard lump.

"Dr. Wilson? Something is…something is pressing into my hip."

The hard lump, of course, was not on the patient.

It was in his pants.

Wilson quickly backed up and held her chart in front of his pants. "I'm sorry. It's this prescription bottle." He abruptly turned around knocking over medical supplies and equipment with his erection.

"Are you okay?"

"I've had some sex…some setbacks…minor setbacks with my appointment calendar today." He dug deep into his pockets and pulled out the vile, dispensing the pills into his hand. VGR 100 was imprinted on them; Viagra. He continued to speak to her while facing the door. "It just occurred to me that I have another appointment. Perhaps we should reschedule?"

Wilson raced out of the room and literally bumped into someone at the Nurse's station. "Sorry."

Nurse Jeffrey slowly turned around and picked up the phone. "Somebody call a Lumberjack. We've got wood. I repeat, _we've got wood!" _He reported over the PA system.

Wilson pushed him aside and ran through a stairway emergency exit, triggering the silent alarm, all the while muttering House's name. He ran up a few flights of stairs, positioned himself into a corner and lowered his "Doctors Do It With Patience" boxers. He rubbed his penis vigorously.

And then out popped a Genie.

The Genie rose above him, floating, almost transparent. He was bearded and blue with a giant letter V tattooed on his bare chest. "Finally I am free. I can grant you three wishes, my friend. Choose carefully and wisely. Tell me, what do you desire?"

"House." Wilson sputtered out.

"A house?"

"No. Dr. House." House's name echoed in the stairwell and bounced off the brick-lined walls. It sounded strange though. The timbre was off.

The Genie scratched the side of his head. "Dr. House?"

"_Dr. House."_ Wilson repeated. But the words that came out of Wilson's mouth were not his. It wasn't his voice.

It belonged to a woman.

A Portuguese woman.

A Portuguese woman stood in front of a sleeping House and called out to him again with more persistence, "_Dr. House!"_

"Wilson, you're wasting a wish. You know I love Cuddy." House muttered as he stirred in his sleep. His head flopped forward then back against the back of his chair.

The woman looked over to her husband, Joaquim Silva, who was standing beside her and pointed at House who was napping with the toy hippo in his lap. "Ele é seu Doutor?"

Joaquim shook his head. "Não. Mas ele pode saber onde o Doutor Wilson está."

House woke up, startled by their conversation and startled at the fact that two strangers were in his office staring at him while he was asleep. The gentleman looked vaguely familiar to him, but the woman did not. She was a petite, pear-shaped woman in a dainty floral print dress. Her hair was immaculate and probably bulletproof thanks in part to the overuse of aerosol-canned hairspray.

Although House was annoyed by their mere presence, he was thankful they disturbed his sleep because the dream he was having was starting to get real weird.

Joaquim stepped a bit closer to House. "Dr. House, pardon me. I'm looking for Dr. Wilson."

House tried to keep a straight face. "Why? Did he do something to your wife?"

"No."

He got up from his chair and tossed the stuffed animal in his wastebasket. "Oh."

"I had an appointment with him to discuss my treatment options with my wife. We were talking and then all of a sudden he bolted out of his office muttering your name. I'm a patient man Dr. House," he looked at his eighteen karat gold wristwatch, "but that was exactly two hours and thirty-one minutes ago."

"You mean you've been waiting in his office all this time?"

"Yes."

Mr. Silva's wife nudged him in the arm. "Talvez precisemos de uma segunda opinião?"

"Um, my wife was wondering if you look at these." Mr. Silva handed over his file to House that Wilson had left on his desk. "She'd like a second opinion."

House looked at the old woman. "Well, you have come to the best."

"She doesn't speak any English," her husband replied.

"Oh." House began reviewing the file when Cuddy walked in and interrupted.

She blushed a little and apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with…"

"That's okay," House assured her.

Mr. Silva's wife looked Cuddy over and nudged Joaquim in his side. "Ela é linda."

"Sim." The men sighed together and agreed—Cuddy was beautiful.

Then she noticed House smile his admiration as he stared longingly at Cuddy.

She knowingly looked at House and then to her husband, placing her hand in his and smiled. "Lembra quando você me deu aqueles olhares?"

House cleared his head and throat and finally introduced Cuddy to them. "Doutor Cuddy é a Chefe da Administração do hospital." He looked down at the name in the medical file chart and then to Cuddy. "This is Wilson's patient, Joaquim DaSilva and his wife…"

"Maria Amelia," Joaquim reported.

"Nice to meet you." Cuddy shook their hands and then pulled House off to the side. "If this is Wilson's patient, where is Wilson?"

"House snickered. "Don't know. But I'm sure he's beating himself up."

"House, why do I get the feeling there's more to this story?"

Joaquim coughed. "Dr. House?"

Cuddy looked at House. "I should go."

"No don't. Give me a few minutes."

"Okay. I'll wait for you outside of your office."

House turned his attention back to the Silva's and looked over the file again. "I'm sorry. Wilson didn't miss anything."

Maria Amelia shook her head.

"I forgot you don't speak English."

He approached Mr. Silva's wife.

"Desculpe senhora, é terminal. É improvável que ele vai ser em torno do próximo ano. Não há nada que possamos fazer, exceto aliviá-lo da dor e do sofrimento com o tratamento."

She began to weep a little.

House awkwardly placed his hand on her arm, trying to comfort her. He turned his attention back to Joaquim. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do. But there is something you can do. Embrace this chance to say and do the things that you have always wanted to. Tell each other what you mean to each other. Some never get to do that."

Joaquim nodded and quietly added, "Thank you."

As House escorted the couple out of his office, Mrs. Silva turned to him and said, "Eu vou fazer isso. Você deve fazer o mesmo."

House raised his brow and looked curiously at her. "I thought you said she doesn't speak any English."

"She doesn't. But she understands it," Joaquim acknowledged as he clasped his wife's hand and walked away.

"What did she say?" Cuddy pondered.

"She said, 'I'll do that. You should do the same.'"

"Do what?"

"I don't know." He lied. "Lost in translation."

They walked back into his office and embraced.

"Hey, I didn't know you spoke Portuguese."

House stuck his tongue out. "And French." Then placed it in her mouth. Shortly thereafter he pulled away. "Um, I'm not complaining or anything, but what are you still doing here? I thought you said you were going home two hours ago?"

"Well, I would have been home by now. But just as I was leaving the office, my phone rang."

"Oh God, don't tell you're getting strange phone calls too?"

"Yes. Strange, unexpected and irritating phone calls both from Kevin and from my sister."

"Kevin?"

"That guy Julia set me up the night of the reception?"

House chuckled a bit. "Oh, yeah. I remember that idiot. He called _you?"_

Cuddy furrowed her brows.

"I meant that in a he knows that he doesn't have a chance in hell with you way."

"You sure about that?"

"Come on Cuddy, you've seen the goods. You're telling me that you would rather be with that dickless dick than me?" House unzipped his pants and pulled out his manhood.

"House put that away before someone sees you."

"How about I put it in your mouth?"

"House."

"He called to tell you about the coat, didn't he?"

"Coat?"

"Yeah the coat that you left in his car. And he probably told you I shoved it in a Biohazard container."

"You did what?"

House bit his lip. "He wasn't calling about that?"

"No. Why? You really tossed out my coat?"

"Cuddy, I had to get rid of it. Remember when he came to clinic and needed a crotch swab? Well, he also brought along your jacket and wanted to give it back to you. And it was…it was stained. Need I say more?"

"Not my Marc Jacobs!"

"I'll replace it."

"That was my favorite…"

"You weren't really going to wear it again. Not after what he and Melanie did on it."

"You're probably right."

"_Probably?"_

"No, you're right."

"So, what did he want anyway?"

"Who?"

"Kevin."

"Oh, yeah. Can you believe he was trying to ask me out on another date?"

"What?" House laughed. "How did he react when you turned him down?"

"I didn't."

"What do you mean you didn't?"

"He never got around to asking. When I was on the phone with him for forty-five minutes all he did was talk about his boring self. I was like 'Hi, Kevin. How are you?' and he was all 'blah, blah, blah, blah.' I couldn't get in one word after that."

"So how did you know…"

"My sister told him that _I was_ interested in him."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously?"

"She doesn't like you House."

"Why?"

"Because I like you. And I spent the last hour on the phone with her arguing about who she thinks is best for me."

Just then House's office phone began ringing.

"Are you going to pick that up?" Cuddy questioned.

"No."

"No?"

"Is the ringing bothering you?" House set the ringer on mute.

"You got another girlfriend I don't know about?"

"Look what you did?" Wilson shouted as he stormed into the office waving an accusatory finger at House. "

"Yeah." House smirked. "Wilson is that a bottle of Viagra in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"

Cuddy stared at Wilson's crotch and started laughing.

Wilson furrowed his brow and folded his arms across his chest. "Stop it."

House joined in.

Wilson was not amused. "You're an ass."

Cuddy glanced back down at Wilson's apparent bulge and clutched the side of House's arm for support as she leaned into him, laughing even harder.

"Both of you are."

"No. I'm an ass. She's just got a phenomenal ass."

House slapped Cuddy's ass and splayed his hand over her left buttock.

Cuddy turned to face him and squeezed his right butt cheek. "Yours is not so bad yourself."

House smiled as he leaned into her, nuzzling the side of her neck and kissing her sweetly up to her mouth.

Wilson cleared his throat until House and Cuddy pulled away. "What you did was…?"

House gave a sideways glance toward Wilson. "Wilson, there's a lady present."

"Ugh. Your pants are a little tight." Cuddy covered her eyes, "Sorry. It really doesn't leave much to the imagination," then she turned away.

Wilson turned beat red and cupped his hands over his crotch.

"You know, it's probably better if I leave." Cuddy raced out the door, knocking over a few vertical blinds off the track. "Sorry, I'll let maintenance know to take care of that too." She turned back to Wilson. "I was taking about the vertical blinds. Not your penis." She clenched her teeth and started speaking faster, "because that would be really weird. Maintenance doesn't need to see your penis. I don't need to see your penis."

"_And I,_ don't need to see your penis either." House motioned to Wilson. "Will you please take care of that?"

Cuddy looked back at House and licked her lips. "I better go. I'll being seeing your penis later?"

"How about now? I could think of a lot of things we could be doing right now."

"Hello? Still here. Still in the room." Wilson barked.

House rolled his eyes. "Yes, I see that Wilson. There's the door. Use it."

"No."

Cuddy whispered to House. "Oh, this is getting really awkward. I think he wants to watch."

Wilson folded his arms over his chest. "House, I'm not leaving."

"Okay. Fine." House shrugged his shoulders and smirked back at Cuddy. "I don't mind if you don't."

"House, I am not leaving this office until that stuff you gave me wears off. I can't be walking around the hospital like this."

"That could take hours." House whined. "You know, there is another thing you could do to speed up the process."

Wilson cocked his at Cuddy and arched his brow.

House shook his head. "Uh-huh. That's not what I was talking about. You find your own girlfriend if you want that."

Cuddy grimaced. "Eew! Gross Wilson!"

"What? I'm just trying to hint at you to leave. So I can have some privacy. Not at all what you were thinking."

Cuddy made her way over to the door. "I know. Wilson, please go to the bathroom and take care of that. Not here. I don't want to have to send up Housekeeping too." She winked at House on her way out.

House began laughing. "Honestly, I think your actions lately have been the cause of these rumors circulating around the hospital."

Wilson practically jumped. "You're blaming me?"

"You're right. Shouting 'look what you did to me' at the top of your lungs while barging into my office with a massive boner clearly wouldn't be water-cooler talk around here."

"House. I was with a patient."

"I know."

"Oh my God, my patient!"

"Relax. I took care of it. They're gone."

"That wasn't funny.

"I agree. Not funny at all."

"House!" Foreman barged into the office followed by Chase, Taub, Thirteen and Cameron.

They all looked at Wilson's crimson face and then lowered their eyes to his lower half.

House grinned from ear to ear. "And…it suddenly just got really funny."

Wilson glared at House as he left the office. "We're going to do something about this later. I'm going to get you somehow. You bet your ass."

House called after him. "You plan to saw my cane in half again? You're just digging yourself a deeper hole, Wilson."

"House, the patient is getting worse," Foreman continued. "Not responding to treatment at all."

"Her short-term and long-term memory is fading and her head looks deformed," Thirteen disclosed.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"We've been trying to get a hold of you," Taub annoyingly said. "Called you on both your office and cell phone."

"Sorry, I get bad reception when Wilson is around. Do another CAT scan. I'll be there in a minute."

Just as the ducklings and Cameron filed out of the DDX, House spoke. "Cameron."

Cameron stopped and turned around while the others headed toward the elevator bank. She curiously eyed him.

"I know what you're doing and I want it to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop interfering."

"Interfering? You're the one who assigned me to this case."

"This isn't about the case and you know it."

"Okay, then what is this about?"

"The games. I get it you're jealous."

"Jealous of what? House you're going to have to clue me in because I have no idea what the hell you are talking about."

"I know about the phone calls," House pulled the hippo out of the wastebasket and waved it in front of her, "and the gifts. Look familiar?"

"Yes."

"A-HA!"

"I love you."

His eyes widened. "You…what?"

She pointed to the heart. "It says 'I love you.'"

"I know."

"I saw you clutching it while you napping in your office earlier. Is that from Cuddy?" Cameron alleged.

House cleared his throat. "Um, Cuddy?"

"House, I know about you and Cuddy. I saw the two of you in your office this morning. You were kissing each other."

"For the record, she kissed me first."

"I'm happy for the two of you. Really. I am. Wait. Did you think that was from me?"

"You mean it's not?"

"You really think I'm some love-sick little naïve girl?"

"Yes. And you didn't answer my question."

"Okay, you're right."

"I am. I'm what?" House was disbelieved. "I am?"

"I probably would have done something like that a couple of years ago. I was in love with you, House. But that was a long time ago and I've moved on because I knew I could never compete for your affection."

House grabbed the toy off his desk and was about to throw it back into the wastebasket when he noticed a couple long strands of hair near one of the hind legs of the animal. He carefully removed and examined them closely. They were blond.

House walked over to his desk and placed them into an empty paper cup. Then he looked back at the door shortly after Cameron exited and shook his head.

"Truth begins in lies."


	8. Chapter 8

It was late. Cuddy was finally going home after a long day at the hospital. She exited the elevator into the parking garage with her head down looking in her purse, fishing for her car keys. She looked up once they were found and rounded a corner past a few rows of parked cars.

Her car was parked in a dimly lit corner with one overhead fluorescent light flickering just above her vehicle and hidden away behind a thick concrete wall.

Normally she would've parked in her own space near the elevator bank, but she wanted to remain low-key until she and House could control their emotions.

Amid the humming of the garage lights she thought she heard high-heeled shoes in the distance, somewhere behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, scanning the garage. There was no one in sight. She continued walking toward her vehicle when the footsteps started up again.

Cuddy clutched her purse to her side and continued to walk faster. The heels behind her clacked and echoed louder throughout the garage. She whipped her head around again, but saw no one. When she finally reached her car, she couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling of being followed. She glanced in her rearview mirror to make sure of that and headed home.

As Cuddy turned the corner and drove her car into her driveway, she thought she saw a faint, moving beam of light emitting through the two front windows. She smiled for a moment, thinking House left the hospital as well and came to surprise her again. He would've entered her home using her not-so secret extra key hidden under the flowerpot by the front door.

Although she was knackered from previous events at the hospital, she still had the ultimate desire to fuck House's brains out. And she felt that she could muster up the energy necessary to do so. When she opened the door and walked inside it was dark and quiet. She frowned expecting to see him sprawled naked on the floor showcasing his hard body and his hard dick, waiting for her.

But she was all alone.

Cuddy sighed kicking off her heels and headed toward her bedroom, unbuttoning her jacket along the way. She noticed one bedroom window was slightly open. She looked out before closing it and drew the sheer curtains shut. Then she disrobed and tossed her clothes in the woven wood hamper near the bathroom door and walked in, turning the shower on.

Every inch of skin was exposed except for her breasts that were clad in a black demi bra embroidered with lace and had a scalloped trim. A two-tone pale pink satin bow was embellished in the center. She _had_ a matching thong and wore it earlier that day at the hospital but House still had it in his possession. So there she stood completely naked in front of her pedestal sink and mirror, laughing.

Laughing about the last eleven hours involving a frustrated House, a frustrated Wilson, and a shitload of blue pills. She hadn't laughed this hard in her life. But her laughter disappeared as quickly as it came because she then just realized there would be no more games. The bet between them was called off, including all of its reaping rewards. And now she suddenly regretted her decision and had a change of heart.

Cuddy stepped into the shower and closed the sliding glass door behind her, then stood under the showerhead. The hot water poured down over her, driblets massaging and tickling her skin. She closed her eyes and imagined House in the shower with her, exploring her body. Touching her all over and making sure that every inch of flesh was licked and covered with his fingerprints. Her hand searched blindly for the chrome shower massager in the steamy room…

Seventeen year-old Jennifer Drake, was writhing in pain on the hospital bed, clutching her belly tightly with one hand and her boyfriend Steve's hand with the other. Her parents, Matt and Molly, were also at her bedside feeling helpless and hopeless talking to House's team.

Molly shook her head as House joined them in the patient's room mid-conversation. "I don't understand. First she was being treated for Strep, then Tonsillitis and then Lupus. Now you think it's something else?

"Whoa!" House objected. "I never said Lupus. Who…"

Taub took a step forward. "House, she has all of the symptoms. Fever, swollen glands, seizures, memory loss and," he pointed to the flaky red spots on her cheeks and nose, "the distinct butterfly rash."

House closely examined the blotches on the patient's face and then curiously eyed the patient's red right hand. "It's not Lupus."

"It is!" Taub argued.

"Contact Dermatitis. Your daughter is allergic to lanolin, commonly found in moisturizers. She's just having a reaction."

The patient looked confused. "But I haven't used any…"

House grabbed the boyfriend's smooth, moisturized hands and flipped his palms up for all to see. "Since you're sick and Hairy Paws here hasn't been getting any lately he…"

Jennifer's mother quickly interrupted. "Who is this man?"

"This is Dr. House," Cameron answered. "He's your daughter's doctor."

"Well, it's no wonder she's not getting any better! I want another doctor."

"His methods and behavior may seem to be unorthodox, but I can assure you he's the best."

House leaned into Cameron and jabbed her side. "_Shh! Chase is in the room_." He then placed one hand over the back of her head and pulled out one of Cameron's hairs from the root, stuffing it into a small plastic vile he had retrieved from his coat pocket.

"_Ow!"_ Cameron grabbed her head and gave House a dirty look. "What's wrong with you?"

"Sorry, random drug test. Cuddy seems to think one of us is an addict." He pulled out another vile from his pocket and placed it to his lips, shaking out a couple of pills and swallowing them whole.

"That's because one of us _is!_" she retorted.

The patient's mother threw her arms up in the air. "What kind of hospital is this?"

_Thud! _Followed by bigbang could be heard in the next room.

"Hello?" Cuddy called out. She turned off the shower and swirled her hand against the steamy glass door, peering out. "House? Is that you?"

House's frustration grew with his team as he paced the DDX room. "I need ideas people!"

"Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Could explain the swelling and paraphasia." Chase suggested.

"No signs of tachycardia or arrythmias. What about Toxoplasmosis?" Thirteen suggested. "I saw about half a dozen cats next door to Jennifer's house. She may have come in contact with some of their fecal matter."

"That would explain the disorientation, seizures, headaches and difficulty speaking," Foreman reported. "The Tonsillitis could have just been a coincidence. But if it's Toxoplasmosis the test results won't be ready until the next forty-eight hours."

"She may not have that kind of time." House nodded his head. "It fits. Give her Sulfadiazine."

As the team filed out of the room, House held Taub back. "Excuse me? Where do you think you're going?"

Taub pointed toward the team. "With…"

"No. You get the pleasure of staying here and reading this from cover to cover." He threw a medical text at him. "All Fifteen hundred and seventy-two pages."

Taub whined. "_Differential Diagnoses A to Z_!"

"Memorize all the diseases it's not, like Lupus." House rolled his eyes, then took the patient's file away from Taub's hand and smacked him upside the head. "Haven't you learned anything? It's _never_ Lupus. What's next? You're going to tell me you that failed your pathology recertification exam?"

"No."

"But you did. _I know you did! _ And that's why you're here. You want to act like you're a man with big balls you better know your shit. Read the damn book." As House walked out of the room and into his office he added, "I suggest you start with page two hundred and six."

Taub opened the book and turned to that very page showcasing an image of a man with Elephantitis of the scrotum.

Ten minutes later Foreman, Chase and Thirteen rushed into House's office.

House looked up from his desk. "That was awfully fast."

"We were wrong," Thirteen declared. "It's not Toxoplaxmosis. She's exhibiting other neurologic symptoms."

House leaned back in his chair and clutched Ball-y. "Looks like we need to see what's going on in her head."

"We can't do another CT-SCAN," Chase disclosed.

"Why did we break _that _machine too?"

"No," Chase continued. "We've tried but the patient can't lie still. She's in too much pain."

"Then let's see what's going inside her head for reals." House demanded. "Open her up."

Foreman crossed his arms. "I can guarantee you her parents won't consent to that kind of procedure without a correct diagnosis."

"Not unless we can _convince_ them. Cameron?" House looked around the room and didn't see her. "Where the hell is Cameron?"

"At home," Chase replied.

"Are you sure about that? She could be under the desk."

"She's off the case, House." Chase proclaimed.

"Says who?"

"Says me. She's not part of the team anymore."

Dressed in a cotton tank and mini shorts Cuddy made her way to the kitchen. She put a kettle on the stove then opened the cupboards and pulled out a pale pink mug with a big black capital letter D etched onto it. She pulled a strand of damp hair back behind her ears and traced around the letter, smiling and remembering the day that she received a set from House a few years ago during the staff holiday secret gift exchange.

"What's this?" she asked as House placed a small, beautifully wrapped package on her desk.

"What does it look like?" He slid it across to her and grinned.

"Uh-uh. Bribery is not going to get you anywhere. Go back to clinic." Cuddy slid the small package back to him. "And for the record, you're going to have to do a lot better than_ that_ if you want to get you out of clinic duty."

"Okay. How about I toss in," he placed his hand in his front denim pocket, "this?" He whipped out a crinkled five-dollar bill and flashed it in front of her face.

"A fiver?"

"I could give you something else much larger than a fiver."

He started to unbuckle his belt.

Cuddy protested, "House!"

"My bad. I'm spoiling _your_ fun." He sat down across from her. "Come sit on Santa's lap and unwrap your gift."

She gave him an annoyed look.

"What? It's the gift that keeps on giving." House quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, this is not about me getting out of clinic duty. I was your secret Santa. So take this." He slid the gift across the desk to her again.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because Wilson picked my name from the hat. Not you."

"Okay. So I didn't pick your name. What's the big deal?"

"Because usually you have an ulterior motive when you act nice."

"Not this time. Just open the damn gift…Please."

Cuddy picked up the wrapped box and placed it to her ear. "Well, it's not ticking."

House smiled. "That's because it has a digital detonation device."

She rolled her eyes and then shook the gift. "But, I feel guilty that I didn't give you anything." House waggled his brows and was about to speak when Cuddy interrupted him. "House. Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"_I know_ what you were going to say."

"So a blowjob is out of the question, huh?"

Cuddy ignored his question and unwrapped the gold paper. Inside the box were two stenciled mugs.

House snorted. "_A pair of D cups! Get it!"_ He stepped closer and smirked. "I asked Santa exactly for the same thing. Well, _not exactly_ the same thing."

She hugged him for a moment, chuckling into his ear. "Thanks. I think."

"So what did Wilson get you anyway?"

"Tickets to a play. Why?"

He muttered under his breath, "Bastard."

"Hey." Cuddy's eyes widened. "I just thought of an idea. Why don't you take the other ticket? My gift to you."

House grew stiff, surprised by her proposition. "Did you just ask me out?"

"If you don't it, that's fine."

House didn't answer her.

"House? House? Do you want some?" She walked over to the coffee maker, carrying the coffee mugs. "I just brewed a fresh pot less than ten minutes ago."

He still remained silent, watching her every movement.

"Well?" She held up the mugs, clinking them. "Do you want some coffee or not?"

"Sure. I don't mind if you don't. And I sure my team wouldn't mind doing another fifteen minutes of clinic duty for me either."

The hot liquid swirled around as Cuddy poured two fresh cups. She accidently overfilled one of the mugs, splashing the tabletop and the front of her eggshell white skirt. "Shit." She ran over to the bathroom and dabbed a towel into a basin of cold water in the sink then blotted it onto her skirt. The now damp article of clothing was becoming more transparent and her undergarment, unbeknownst to her.

Cuddy stepped out of the bathroom and went back to the coffeemaker. "So how do you like your coffee, House?"

House stared at her and licked his lips. "Like my women—dangerously hot and good till the last drop. It's a complicated process really. First I find a good bean that looks and smells appetizing. Then I grind it slowly with my hand-crank grinder. Once it's…"

She rolled her eyes and cut him off. "No, seriously. How do you take it?"

"Sweet and low," he half-joked.

"Okie-dokie." She removed the lid off the sugar bowl and began placing heaping spoons into his cup.

House grabbed her hand and held it in his for a minute. "Thanks that's enough."

Cuddy's voice trembled, "Do you want any cream?"

"Lots of it. So much that it can't contain itself anymore in the mug once I touch it. It has to drip all over the place, down my chin, down my hands and arms. I try to devour it completely before it melts in my mouth."

"Yes, I understand. I like things a certain way too. Take tea, for example. I like my tea like I like my men—hot and first thing in the morning on the kitchen table."

She held up his cup to her lips and blew the steam in his face. "Careful it's hot. I wouldn't want you to burn your tongue."

"I'll take my chances." He took the cup from her hand and took a sip then placed it back on the table. "Tell me…what is your favorite type of tea? I bet you like _Oolong _tea."

"Very much. I love how it's strong and woody with a sweet aftertaste."

"I'll have to take your word for it."

"Why don't you come over tonight and try it. You might like it."

"I'm not much of a tea drinker."

Cuddy smiled. "That's okay. I'm out of tea."

The kettle on the stove whistled tearing Cuddy away from her memory. She half-smiled as she grabbed a carton of chamomile tea down from the kitchen cabinets, removing a couple of teabags. Despite her invitation and their flirtations. House didn't show up that night. She wanted him to and hoped he would, but their timing was off as usual.

She grabbed her laptop off the kitchen counter, carried the hot beverage to her bedroom and plopped on top of the bed. A chill suddenly came over her as she looked up and again saw her bedroom window open. She got up and slammed it making sure it was shut this time, then returned to the bed, wrapped a warm chenille throw around her shoulders and sipped her tea.

But, another chill came over Cuddy as she heard another strange sound coming from somewhere inside the house. She couldn't pinpoint its origin but figured it was just the house creaking and settling into the foundation.

House stepped into his office rolling a stereomicroscope on a cart that he had stolen from one of the labs. He reached into his pocket and pulled the vile containing Cameron's strand of hair then placed it under the scope along with the questioned sample that he had retrieved from the hippo stuffed animal. Then his cell phone rang. "Hi."

"Hi." Cuddy yawned. "Are you coming over any time soon?"

House began to focus the scope. "Why? Miss me?"

"No. I just keep…"

"You don't miss me?"

"I do. It's just I've been having this weird feeling ever since I left the hospital like I'm being watched or something. Silly right?"

House carefully observed the characteristics of each sample under the scope. "What?"

It wasn't a match.

Cuddy repeated a bit louder, "I said I've been feelin…"

"Cuddy. I want you to lock the doors and stay put."

"House? What's wrong? You're freaking me out."

"Just do it." He hung up the phone, grabbed his keys and raced out of the office, leaving his cane behind.


	9. Chapter 9

House trudged down the hospital corridor to the elevator bank with an even more pronounced uneven gait. He pressed the button calling the elevator up and waited a few more seconds before pressing it again several more times as time slowly slipped away. He took a few steps toward the stairwell and shrugged, glancing back at the stalled elevator. He sighed, limped over to the elevator again and placed a finger on the illuminated button going down, tapping it with more force.

"You know it doesn't come any faster when you do that," someone said behind him.

"Is that right?" House turned around and faced an old man. He was wearing a Hawaiian printed shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted Bermuda shorts and horribly accessorized with black nylon socks and tan open toed sandals. A portly woman in matching attire stood by him giggling. "I bet you hear that from your wife all the time."

The man scratched the side of his head. "Huh?"

The elevator door chimed and opened. House stepped in along with the couple when his cell phone rang. He pulled out his phone and noticed that it was a call from within the hospital. He assumed it was his team and ignored it then pressed the "L" button for the lobby floor.

The elevator doors closed as his phone rang again. This time he took the call—it was Cuddy. He placed the phone to his ear. "Cuddy."

"House. I…need you…"

"What?" The reception in the elevator was lousy. He moved into a corner and inserted a finger into his ear as Cuddy's voice fought over the static. "You're breaking up. Cuddy. You're breaking up."

"…need your help," Cuddy's voice cut out again.

"Cuddy, what? I can't hear you." He leaned into his phone as the gentleman next to him began having an annoyingly loud conversation with his wife.

Cuddy's voice came through again. "…girl. It's…it's…"

"The difference between a chicken and a five ton gorilla," said the man a few feet away from him.

House glared back at the morons as they continued on with their asinine conversation. He removed the phone away from his face and uttered, "I'm sorry. Could you be any louder?"

They continued talking.

"Ahem." He raised his voice a little louder. "I'm a Doctor and this is a very important call."

But his words still continued to fall on deaf ears.

"Did you hear me?" He waved his arm in front of them. "Yo! You deaf? I'm on the phone here!"

"Is that supposed to be funny? Doctor?" The old man pointed to the hearing aid tucked away in his ear canal.

"Wilson. Dr. Wilson." House cleared his throat. "They're hardly noticeable." He cringed as he placed his cell back to his ear, "Cuddy?" But couldn't hear anything on the other end of the phone because the couple went back to their conversation, only louder than before. "Hey! Tweedledee and Tweedledum! Shut your pie-hole!"

The heavy-set woman placed her hands on her hips. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me." He swept the back of his hand under his chin, moving his arm in a forward motion and then pointed at the two of them. It was the universal sign to fuck off. "Finally. Silence," House boasted.

They were speechless.

And apparently so was Cuddy.

The call had disconnected.

"Well isn't that just fucking great?" House rolled his eyes and made another call to Cuddy and then pressed the button for the nearest floor. He decided to press all of the buttons to the other floors before stepping out of the elevator. He turned to face the couple and bowed. "There. You annoy me. I annoy you. This was fun. Good day," he said as the doors slowly closed in front of him. He put his phone back to his ear. "Sorry about that Cuddy. You were saying? Cuddy?"

His face grew white as he heard what sounded like broken glass followed by Cuddy scream and then a thud.

"Cuddy?"

The line disconnected again.

He called her cell back. It rang and rang until her voicemail picked up. He tried to reach her again and failed. Frantic, he called her house phone and froze upon hearing the recorded message that played, "We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error…"

House hung up the phone and raced down three flights of stairs not wanting to wait a second longer for the elevator to arrive. His leg throbbed with every step, pounding against the cemented floor but was quickly subsiding as his adrenaline kicked in. He was flying so fast he nearly fell a few times, catching the handrail just in time instead of tumbling down to the bottom.

His cell phone rang again. He fumbled for it in his coat pocket and leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He gasped, "Cuddy?"

On the other end of the phone he heard a faint high-pitched giggle in the background. He pulled the phone away from his ear and glanced back down at the unknown caller ID, disconnecting the call immediately while stepping out of the stairwell. As he rounded a corner en route to the main hospital doors he ran into Foreman, Chase and Thirteen.

"House. We were on our way to see you." Thirteen acknowledged.

"Great. Now that you've seen me, I guess I'll be on my way.

Chase stepped in front of him. "Whoa! Where are you going? We need…"

"Take a number."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and boxed House into a corner, blocking him. "House!"

"Get out of my way."

"The patient's is getting worse."

"Things are going to get a lot worse for you if don't get out of my way." He pushed Chase aside and began walking away.

Chase followed him and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt pulling him back.

"Get your hands off of me. I'm five times the size of you." He smirked adding, "Just ask as Cameron."

In a split second Chase swung a right hook, punching him in the jaw.

House fell back onto the tiled floor and brushed his knuckles alongside his bloody lower lip as Foreman held Chase back.

"That's him! That's the man!" shrieked someone from down the hall. "That's the man I wanted to knock out, but it looks like somebody beat me to the punch."

Everyone turned around. Matt and Molly Drake stood there next to another couple—the annoying couple from the elevator—pointing an accusatory finger at House.

House bit into his bloody lip. "Oh. You know each other?"

Molly scowled. "I've had enough of your shenanigans. As far as my daughter's life is concerned, you're off the case!"

"Good news for me." House got up and dusted the dirt off the sides of his jeans.

"Bad news for you though. I hear funerals can be very expensive."

He hobbled over to the parking garage, hopped on his Honda Repsol motorcycle and strapped on his helmet. He descended round and round each parking level swerving at oncoming cars in the small, tight spiraling space before exiting out into the streets. He sped, zipping through traffic and weaving from lane to lane.

A red light, however, impeded his pursuit to Cuddy's house. He tried to wait patiently at the intersection but the light seemed unwilling to change, unlike the weather. Dark gray clouds grew ominously, covering the sky. Small pockets of starry night disappeared as the clouds gathered, blocking their luminance. Light rainfall turned into heavy sheets overflowing the streets as strong winds and tumultuous thunder roared in the distance.

House wiped away the blur of rain building up on his helmet visor. He inched forward, trying to trigger the traffic light to change and then stared back and forth between the stormy night sky, the intersection with no cross traffic, and back at the red light. He gripped the throttle tightly, revving the engine and then recklessly went for it. One car spun out of control as House nearly collided with the vehicle. Luckily for him he avoided causing an accident—or being in one.

When House pulled up to Cuddy's residence he was drenched and cold to the core. Once he dismounted his bike and limped over to her door, he began feeling sharp, shooting pains in his leg. The pain got worse as he reached her doorstep and an uneasiness came over him as he saw a soggy, tattered hippo stuffed animal—the one that he had mysteriously received and thrown away at the hospital. He picked it up and noted a few modifications had been made since he had last seen it. The heart that the animal held was ripped completely in half yet still stitched to its paws. And in thick black permanent marker were the words: "I Will Possess Your Heart" on its chest in girly handwriting.

As House squeezed the neck of the animal and threw it in a puddle of muddy rain he noticed the potted plant that had Cuddy's house key under it was not in its usual spot. He lifted the pot up. The key was missing. He grabbed the handle of the front door and jiggled it. It was unlocked and but more disturbingly, cracked open. He cautiously entered and called out to her in the darkness leaving behind a trail of rainwater and muddy footprints in the foyer and down the hall to her dimly lit bedroom.

He found her laptop was partially closed on top of her bed emitting a small bright stream of light. He flicked the light switch on and off. No electricity and no sign of her. He searched the spare room. "Cuddy? Cuddy?" Then made his way to the living room and then to the kitchen.

He was able to catch a glimpse of Cuddy as lightning flashed, illuminating the room for a brief second. Her upper body was slumped over on the kitchen table. One arm dangled to the ground while the other was bent under her head in a pool of crimson liquid. She wasn't moving.

House tried to call out her name but his throat closed tighter and tighter with every step and breath he took. _It wasn't supposed to happen this way_, he thought. He knew he had always been dealt a shitty hand at life, but his odds changed in his favor when he met Cuddy at the campus bookstore. He made the mistake of playing the Joker when the stakes got high and lost her. But when she re-entered his life, he vowed to go "all in" and gamble his heart for a chance at happiness with his Queen.

He had a strategy, a game plan. He would _Club_ her over the head like a caveman and drag her back to his cave. She'd reject his advances and tell him off in _Spades_. They would eventually listen to their _Hearts,_ fall in love and figure they were right for each other. And then go shopping for a _Diamond_. At least that's how he thought it was supposed to happen. Not like this.

_It wasn't supposed to happen like this._

"Cuddy?" he finally managed to choke out.


	10. Chapter 10

The pain in his leg surged as he slowly approached her in the darkness —slowly because his heart felt heavy and then like it was in a vise-grip, slowly because his mind and body weren't attuned with each other anymore, slowly because his world was crashing around him. His feet dragged on the floor like blocks of cement and he looked confused and pale. Every inch he moved closer to her, his life faded away. Nothing was making any sense and his brain was screaming.

As his clammy hand stretched out to touch her bare shoulder, Cuddy lifted her head and wiped away tear-stained cheeks. He retracted his arm and nearly lost his balance. "Aah! What the fuck?"

Cuddy jumped out of her chair in fright and yanked out her iPod ear buds. "Shit House! What are you doing? You shouldn't sneak up on people like that! That wasn't funny. You almost gave me a heart attack."

House clutched his chest and sputtered out, "_I_ almost gave _you_ a heart attack?" He laughed hysterically for a moment. "Cuddy. You're…" his voice trailed off. He was so choked with emotion he struggled to get the rest of the words out and looked down for a moment teary-eyed, trying to hide his vulnerability. _"You're…" _

"An idiot. I know."

He held her face in his hands forcing her to look into his eyes. "What? What happened? Are you okay?"

She sighed and picked up the red stained piece of linen from the kitchen table. "This chuppah has been in my family for over a hundred years. I have it for less than a month _and what do I do_? I knock over a glass of wine on it." She sighed again, shaking her heard. Although still visibly very upset with herself, she tried to brush it off like it wasn't a big deal. "It's pretty stupid that I'm crying, huh? I mean it's only a piece of cloth. It's not like, somebody died right?"

"_I'm so glad you're okay_." He hugged her tightly, nearly squeezing the life out of her. "Cuddy, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you were dead."

"Dead? No. But if you don't loosen your grip…I…I can't…breathe. House? House?"

He released his hold on her and managed to utter a few words before his lips crashed with her. "Sorry. It's just…"

The kiss was intense and totally different.

As the lights flickered back on, Cuddy pulled away and immediately noticed his fat, swollen lower lip and lifted his chin. Her fingertips lightly grazed at the wound. "What happened?"

"Chase."

"_Chase?"_

"Never mind about me. I'll explain later."

Cuddy glanced back down at the table and winced. The red wine stain was even more evident and unsightly in the light. "I might as well be dead. When my mother finds out about this…Ugh, I don't know what I was thinking! This was an accident just waiting to happen. I swear this whole night has been crazy. The power goes out. You call me all frantic, so I get frantic and pour myself a glass of wine to calm my rattled nerves and spill it. Then you come here after I specifically told you it wasn't necessary and scare the shit out of me…"

"Wait. You never told me…"

"I left you a message."

"What message? You didn't leave me a message."

"Yes, I did."

"Check your voicemail."

House smirked and took the phone out of his coat pocket. "I thought we were done playing games. You called me saying that you needed me, that you needed my help. And then you mentioned something about a girl, so I rushed over here." He placed the phone to his ear and played back the message on speakerphone.** "House.** **I **don't **need you** to come over here. I don't **need your help. **I'm a big **girl**. Like I said earlier, **it's…it's **just the storm…" He disconnected the call with egg on his face, "Oh? I guess you did," and placed it back in his pocket. "But you screamed. _I heard you scream_."

"Well, I thought I saw something or someone at the window causing me to knock over my glass of wine. Anyway I tried calling you again, but you didn't pick up. So I left you a message." She clasped his hand and shimmied closer to him. "But, I'm really glad you are here."

"Me too." He tore his eyes away from her for a moment and looked at the fabric draped over the tabletop. "What is that anyway? A fancy tablecloth or something?"

"Not exactly."

"Get your things. We're staying at my place tonight."

"Why you're already _here?_"

"Because something tells me you actually saw someone. I think I'm being stalked."

Cuddy busted up laughing. "You? Stalked?"

"Cuddy, I'm serious." He didn't want to scare her so he came up with another excuse and grabbed the chuppah off of the table. "I have something at home that can get this stain out. Go on. It stopped raining. I think we're catching a break in the storm."

She took off to her room to pack a few things while he twisted the severed kitchen phone cord in his hands.

House opened the front door to his apartment and let Cuddy in first. She was shivering. Her brunette hair was wet and stuck to her skin just like the clothes on her body. "Thanks to you I'm sopping wet."

"Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for that later. First let's get you out of those wet clothes. Wouldn't want you to catch cold."

Cuddy peeled off her drenched jacket and slapped it to the floor. "Too…too…" then sneezed. "Too late! I thought you said it wasn't going to rain?"

He placed Cuddy's packed bag onto the floor and grabbed one of his spare canes.

"Brilliant idea taking your bike by the way," she snarked.

"Sorry. I'm a medical genius not the weatherman. Besides, you should be thanking me. Didn't you hear the wet look is back in?"

She folded her arms and pouted.

"Why don't I go draw you a nice hot bath?"

"Finally you're making sense now."

He took off down the hall.

"Wait. What about you?"

Halfway to his destination he turned around. "You're not mad at me anymore?"

"I'm not mad. Annoyed maybe. But, we need to take care of you too."

"You're right. I suppose I better get out of these clothes too."

"That's not what I was talking about." She approached him down the hall and gently brushed the pad of her fingers on his wounded lip. It was starting to bruise a little. "We should put some ice on this."

"Cuddy. I need to change. You really scared the shit out of me. Literally. It's leaking out of the bottom of my pants and onto my shoes as we speak."

She looked down at his feet.

"HA! Made you look."

"Silly me. I thought you were _dead_ serious."

"That's not funny. Come on." He grabbed her hand and guided her to the bathroom. Then poured in a few capfuls of nut foaming bath under the faucet and sprinkled scented bath salts all around the tub. The aroma was delicious. It smelled sugary sweet like chocolate cake mix batter. "This isn't mine. It's Wilson's. He left this behind when he was staying with me…when he was going through his third divorce. He also left that anti-fungal ointment in the medicine cabinet too if you're wondering."

Cuddy stepped into the inviting bath. "Aren't you going to join me?"

"I'll join you in a minute. Have to get that stain out of your chupacabra…"

"Chuppah."

"Excuse me, _chuppah,_ before the stain sets in. Time is of the essence."

He headed back to the kitchen and grabbed a roll of paper towels, club soda and dish soap and brought them over to the sink along with her precious family heirloom. He treated the stain while examining the cloth. It was eggshell white with a satin ribbon trim and was beautifully embroidered with what appeared to be wedding portraits. Below each imprinted photo were names and dates sewn on. He traced his finger along some of the names that he recognized. Arlene Cuddy November 19, 1966 and Julia Cuddy July 25, 1998. There was one corner left intentionally blank.

"How is everything?" he shouted back to her. "Enjoying yourself?"

"There's still one thing missing."

He fondled the empty space on the cloth and uttered to himself, "No kidding." Then walked over to the bathroom and discarded his wet clothes in the sink and sat at the opposite end of the tub. He grabbed her foot, massaging and gently kissing it.

Cuddy sloshed the water his way and splashed him in the face. "Hey, what are you doing way over there?" Then she got up on her knees and dug into the water, lifting out a huge pile of bubbles and placing it on top of his head.

House wiped away at the suds in his eyes and splashed back at her. Seconds later more splashing and laughing occurred. Then Cuddy grabbed a washcloth and threw it at his face.

"You're going to regret doing that." He removed the cloth, scooped up two handfuls of bubbles, blew it in her face and laughed. "There. Now you look like the bearded lady that I helped in clinic a few months back. It's a good look for you really."

Cuddy splashed him in the face again and then playfully grabbed the back of his head and dunked it into the water.

House surprised her and wrestled his way out of her slippery grasp then rose to the surface. He glanced down at his penis, "Down periscope, down," then back at her. "Sorry. Can't help it. Your bearded clam was in my face." He pinned her up against a wall in a corner of the tub, idle hands parting her legs and debated whether to go on a muff diving adventure or simply set his submarine on course for sperm harbor.

Twenty minutes later the bathroom was flooded. He was spooning her from behind, holding her tightly and resting his head next to hers in the tepid water. "So, what is a chuppah anyway?"

"I told you."

"Actually you didn't."

"I didn't?"

"No."

"It's a tapestry that's hung like a canopy on four poles in a Jewish wedding ceremony where the bridal couple stands underneath. It symbolizes the new life, new home they'll share together. Anyway, after Julia got married she was supposed to pass it on to me, but of course, never did."

"Oh."

"A couple of months ago my mother found it while going through the house, trying to finally get rid of dad's old things and gave it to me. It's been in my family for generations."

"You've had it for over a month. How come I've never seen it?"

"It's been sitting in a box in the hall closet since my mom brought it over. For some reason I felt like looking at it tonight."

House clasped his left hand with her right one thoroughly examining and playing with her ring finger. He pushed away the soapy bubbles and seized the base of her digit before giving her a soft, gentle kiss on top of her head.

"Maybe it's time to get out." Cuddy stood up and stepped out of the tub. "My fingers are getting pruney."

He slapped her ass with a wet towel from the floor. "That's not the only thing."

"You're absolutely right." She turned the bronze tub faucet handle to the coldest position while House was still immersed in the tub then grabbed all of the towels except for the soaked one on the floor and ran out the door shouting, "We forgot about the shrinkage."

"Real cute."

House turned off the icy cold water and drained the tub. He grabbed the drenched towel and wrung it dry as best he could. Then reached for the shower pole in front of him and carefully hoisted himself up, wrapping the towel around his waist before exiting the bathtub. The towel clung to him like a second skin.

And Cuddy immediately noticed as he entered the bedroom. "So much for shrinkage." She was sitting on his bed presumably naked, wrapped in a heavy down comforter with her back slouched against the headboard. She curled her finger, beckoning him to join her on the bed. "I could use your body heat."

He immediately dropped his towel and grabbed a pair of white boxer briefs from his dresser drawer. "Hold that thought."

"What are you doing?"

"I have something better in mind."

"Better than this." She opened up the comforter revealing all of her beauty.

He shielded his eyes and turned away. "I'm going to build us a fire and make us some hot cocoa."

"That actually sounds pretty good."

"Good." He searched in another drawer and pulled out a DVD labeled "Christmas Yuletide Log" then placed it into the player and dimmed the lights.

Cuddy laughed as the "fire" crackled and snapped. He joined her on the bed and leaned in for a smooch. She smiled and pushed him away. "Not so fast. We need to take care of your lip."

"It can wait."

"_No. It can't_. And you promised me hot cocoa."

"_Cuddy!"_ House got up, "Yes, mistress," and set off for the kitchen then returned minutes later with two mugs of cocoa, a first aid kit and an icepack.

She reached for a cup, placed it on the night side and motioned for him to sit beside her. "Come here." She examined his mouth with gentle fingertips and delicately cleaned the wound, carefully dabbing a cotton ball not wanting to hurt him. He looked at her with loving eyes as she tended to his lip. "Chase did this to you? Do I need to file a report? What did you do?"

"Nothing. I told him to get out of my way. End of story."

"_That _prompted him to hit you? Why do I feel like you're not telling me everything?"

"Okay. I said I was five times bigger than him and that Cameron knew that too."

"Does she?"

"Cameron? What? Noooo! You've always been the one I've been saving myself for."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and gently kissed him in the corner of his mouth before tenderly putting the icepack on his lip. "There. All better."

House held it to the side of his face. "He didn't have to hit me. I was being generous when I said five times bigger. It's more like seventeen really. There are some photos circulating around the Net."

They finished their hot beverages in silence, snuggling each other and gazing at the flames of the roaring fire flickering on the TV plasma screen.

Cuddy closed her eyes and nuzzled her head in the nook of his shoulder and placed her right hand on his bare chest. She drew lazy circles over his heart and twisted what little chest hair he had around her finger then positioned her head closer to his sternum.

House broke the silence. "I could never forgive myself if something happened to you." He grabbed her hand and interlaced it with his. "Cuddy I…"

"Shh." She placed a finger to his mouth, "No more talking," and yawned. "I'm _dead _tired."

"Again. Not funny." House quietly joked as she fell into a deep slumber. He kissed the top of her head and then closed his eyes. "That's okay. I'm tired too. And I like this. I like being with you just you like this." He held onto her tightly with his strong, protective arms encircling her torso and rested her head under his chin. He was afraid of letting go, of ever letting her go.

The storm outside grew even more treacherous. The wind howled and whistled as heavy rains pelted the earth. Thunder rumbled and lightning struck, illuminating the dark night sky. House opened his eyes as flashes of light filled the room. He saw a shadowy figure reflecting in the mirror on the opposite wall across from his bed. The stranger appeared to be peeping through the window watching them. He couldn't make out any features but he could tell it was definitely a woman in a hooded sweatshirt.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds then opened them again. The silhouette was gone.


	11. Chapter 11

"_Well it's about time."_

"I'm sorry. I got here as quick as I could." Wilson removed his overcoat and scarf and shook off the rainwater at the door before barging into House's apartment. He was soaking wet. "Is everything okay? Your text said that it was urgent."

"It is."

His shoes squished as he made his way to the couch. When he sat down he immediately noticied the small purple-yellow splotch around House's lip and chin in the light. "What the hell happened to your face?"

"Occupational hazard. What the hell happened to _yours?"_ House jabbed.

Wilson looked worried, patiently waiting for an answer.

"Chase hit me. Okay. It's a long story. Anyway I need you to pick up something for me and pay for it." He stated matter-of-factly, joining him on the couch.

"_You need me to what?_ It's three o'clock in the morning! Last time I checked your good leg, bike and car still work." He turned on a dime toward the front door and grabbed his coat. "Goodbye, House."

"Wilson, wait!"

Wilson heard the urgency in his voice and turned back around. "Does this have something to do with Cuddy?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you just say so?" He shrugged and walked back into the apartment then sat down on the couch again. "I figured this would happen sooner or later. Let me guess. You two had a fight and you need to talk about it." He patted the cushion next to him and hugged him. "I'm here for you, House. Go on. Let it out."

House laughed in his arms. "In your dreams, Wilson."

He drew his head back. "Then why did you ask me to come here?"

"The reason is…the reason is…" he coughed. "Um, Wilson?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't like guys this close to my face."

"Oh!" Wilson let go of him. "Sorry."

"The real reason I called you is…"

"Ah! Say no more. You want those magic blue pills." He stood up, dug into the pocket of his saturated light brown slacks and retrieved the bottle of "Aleve" that House had given to him earlier. "Cuddy must be wearing you out."

"_No._ And why in the hell are you still carrying _that_ around with you anyway?"

"I haven't had the chance to get rid of it."

"Mmm-hmm."

"House, you know there are proper ways to dispose of unused medication."

He glanced at the soaked leather cushion beside him. "I see you still haven't taken care of that bed wetting problem."

"Wasn't my fault! You dipped my hand in a bowl of warm water that night when I was sleeping."

"Whatever." House collected his thoughts. "So…I think somebody is stalking me."

Wilson burst out laughing.

"That's the same reaction I got from Cuddy. Why is that so funny? It's happened to me before."

"I think you've taken one too many Vicodin tonight House. You're obviously delusional and paranoid."

House grew solemn. "Look at me Wilson. I'm serious. Somebody is trying to sabotage my relationship with Cuddy."

"Who? Cameron?"

"No."

"An old girlfriend?"

"I don't know. I've been getting weird phone calls and gifts for the past week. Last night I'm pretty sure somebody was in Cuddy's house."

"Have you called the police?"

"I can handle this myself."

"Then why am I here?"

He handed Wilson a crumpled up piece of paper. "Can you do me the biggest favor and get these things for me? I want to do something special for Cuddy and I don't want to leave her alone here."

A half an hour later the rain had stopped and Wilson was back in House's apartment. While he carried a bag of groceries into the kitchen he couldn't help but notice a beautifully embroidered piece of fabric stretched out above him, pinned from the corner of the door to a lighting fixture. "What's that?" He placed the bag on the table and began removing its contents.

House turned around wearing a white apron that said, "I May Suck In The Kitchen…_But So Do You_," with a mixing bowl in hand. "That's _another_ long story. I'll tell you about that later. Right now I have to get started on this before Cuddy wakes up." He plugged in a waffle iron and then began adding in the rest of the ingredients to his mixture—chocolate chips, vanilla and cocoa powder.

Wilson walked over to the refrigerator to put away the buttermilk and saw two airline tickets stuck to the door by means of a couple of vintage pinup-girl magnets. Curious, he took a peek at the flight itinerary—roundtrip tickets from New Jersey to Madrid, Spain then to Paris, France. His head whipped around as he glanced back at the chuppah hanging dry in the doorway. "So…how are things with you and Cuddy?"

House smiled. "Never better."

"_I can see that."_ He thumbed through a brochure of Le Mont Saint-Michel. "But don't you think you should slow it down?"

"Slow it down? My heart has been after this woman for twenty years. I wouldn't call that rushing into anything." He added the batter to the waffle iron and closed it. "I'll never forget the day we met in the campus bookstore. She was positively gorgeous and we connected instantly. I remember…turning to Cuddy and saying…who's your friend?" he snorted.

"House."

"I'm sorry." He paused. "Of course, I'm talking about Cuddy. It's always been Lisa Cuddy."

"Are you going to make some type of formal announcement at the hospital?"

"We haven't discussed it that much. I sort of sprang it on her last week. We'll have to talk to HR at some point, obviously." House opened the waffle iron and removed the delicious, crispy treat. He placed it onto a cutting board, sprinkled sugar on it and pierced the waffle several times with a heart-shaped cookie cutter.

Cuddy stirred in her sleep.

A cell phone vibrated on a stack of books on the nightstand near her. It rattled and rattled relentlessly, falling onto the piece of furniture, thus waking her up. She squinted at the clock and moaned. It brightly read 4:46am.

She turned over and tried to go back to sleep when the phone grew silent. But not less than four minutes later it "rang" again. She outstretched her arm from underneath the warm comforter and blindly searched for the offensive object in the darkness. "Hello?" She mumbled, half asleep.

"Cuddy? Cuddy is that you?"

"Yeah." She yawned loudly.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"That's okay. What is it?"

"Is House _with you?"_ Foreman looked at his watch.

"_House?"_ Cuddy sat up and tossed the blanket aside, suddenly wide-awake. Her mind raced as she realized that she had mistakenly picked up House's cell. She was, however, able to understand the gist of the conversation with Foreman as he explained that they were stumped and needed House's expertise, despite being thrown off the case.

Foreman never questioned Cuddy about why she had House's phone, but as soon as he ended the call with her, he smiled and blabbed, "Told ya they were rolling in the sheets."

"Please, you thought House and Wilson were an item a week ago," Thirteen rebuked.

Money exchanged hands between the team and other hospital staff nearby.

"House?" Cuddy called out looking for him.

He froze and looked at Wilson as he stacked another heart-shaped waffle onto the heaping pile before him. "_Shit._ You got to get out of here."

"Can't I be the first to congratulate you two?"

"Huh?"

"House?" Cuddy called out again from the bedroom.

"She's coming. Get out! _Get out!_" House opened the kitchen window. "Come on! Quickly! Through the window!"

"_Why can't I just use the front door?_" Wilson whined.

"Because if she see's you, you'll ruin everything and kill the mood."

"House! I'm not going to go out…"

"Shh!" House's ears perked up. "I think I hear her coming down the hall. Hurry!"

Wilson hopped up on the counter and tried to squeeze himself out the window but only accomplished getting stuck. His friend readily gave him a shove and finally got rid of him.

House hurriedly stripped out of his clothes, leaving only his apron on and exposing his buttocks. "I'll be right there Cuddy." He cracked the bedroom door open and stuck his head in. "Close your eyes."

"House."

"Just do it. I have a surprise for you."

Cuddy obliged. "Fine."

"No peeking." He limped into the room and grabbed something to blindfold her with, a white, knee length sport sock that was thankfully clean. He slowly guided her by the hand, backward out of the room to the kitchen.

She stood in the doorway in one of House's T-shirts just before he removed the sock. Her face scrunched. "Wilson."

"Wilson?" House turned around and jerked. "Wilson!"

Wilson's mouth was half full and dusted with confectioner's sugar. "I left my keys in here and had to come back." He wiped away at his sugary beard. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"You ate _all of them?_"

"Almost all of them." Wilson waved the last waffle in the air and then shoved the entire thing in his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head as he savored every bite, acting as though he had the biggest fucking orgasm ever in his life. "Cuddy," he pointed a finger at her and spoke between chews, "you are a lucky woman. This man knows his way around the kitchen. This is," he looked at the empty plate, "_this_ _was_ one of the most delicious things I've ever eaten."

"And you know your way to the front door." House remarked.

"No need to get your boxers in a twist. Oh, I see you're not wearing any." He caught a glimpse of House's backside.

House tugged at the apron. "Please leave now."

"You can easily make more. There's still plenty of batter left over."

He pushed him out of the kitchen. "Get out!"

"Okay. Okay." Wilson motioned his head up, "By the way, I think you're supposed to kiss now," and chuckled as he exited House's apartment.

Cuddy and House looked above them and realized they were standing side by side underneath the chuppah.

House blushed a little. "Is it just me or is it getting a little hot in here?" He made his way to refrigerator and stuck his head in it.

"You got the wine stain out!"

"I told you I could take care of it."

She licked her lips. "I'm quite impressed," eyeing his fine bare ass.

He pulled his head out of the refrigerator and turned around with a carton of milk to his lips. He took a swig and looked at her oddly, wiping away the few drops that trickled down from his lips to his chin with his forearm.

Cuddy was leaning back against the kitchen counter and twirling a strand of her hair. She was smiling at him provocatively and flirting with her eyes.

He arched his brow at her and smirked as she drew the blinds shut and then squeezed and caressed her breasts over her shirt. "What are you…what are you doing? _And why am I not doing it with you?_"

She pushed him away and waved a finger in the air. "Uh-uh. I've decided that you were right."

"I was. Yes. I. Was. Right." He cleared his throat. "Um, right about what?"

"About the bet. It was foolish of me to terminate our agreement. I think we should continue the game. I enjoyed playing it and I know you did too. This was your way of telling me so. You made a special breakfast for me in the buff, fulfilling one of my fantasies."

"Yeah, until Wilson ruined it." He held his arms out and approached her again. "Hey, since I already fulfilled my part of the bargain, don't you think I should be rewarded?"

"Technically you haven't. Did you forget about your clinic hours? Four extra clinic hours a week for the next six months."

"I didn't. As a matter of fact I was planning on reporting to clinic first thing once we got to work."

"Well you'd have no other choice…since you've apparently been thrown off the case."

"Oh." He clenched his teeth. "You know about that?"

"Foreman called. You are fully aware that I'm going to have to take disciplinary action." She slapped a wooden spoon against the table and toyed with the sock, wrapping it around her wrist. "Be prepared to accept the consequences of your actions later tonight."

"Tonight? No. _Right now_. You lost the bet too. I made breakfast for you. Now you need to do your thing."

"That's what I've been trying to do."

"Really?" House laughed as she sat up on the counter facing him with her legs crossed, slowly inching up her shirt all the while never breaking her gaze. He gulped hard and choked out, "_Really?_"

"Are you objecting?"

He shook his head vigorously from side to side.

"Good." She smiled. "I'll be right back." And then she walked out of the kitchen.

A smile crept up on House's face as realized his fantasy was soon to become a reality. He felt the heat sweep over his body as his mind raced and he drank more milk from the carton. She returned moments later, repositioning herself on top of the counter after putting some music on.

_The world was on fire and no one could save me but you._

_It's strange what desire will make foolish people do._

His eyes grew big as she stroked the length of her toned legs up and down and then spread them wide open, inviting him to take a peek. He swallowed hard as he watched her hands work in tandem—stimulating one breast, then two—encouraging an increasing wetness over her white, silk panties. With modesty in mind, she outlined the thin elastic band of her thong first and placed a quiet finger over the front of the soft, damp fabric and then ultimately underneath it. She could tell her handiwork was driving him mad and wild.

House remained still, trying to resist jumping her bones. He bit his lip and watched her intently, wondering what she was going to do next.

She gracefully ran her hands over her thighs and again coquettishly to her center, arousing a hunger inside him and stimulating all of his senses.

_What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way._

_What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you._

Cuddy slid off the countertop and raised her T-shirt up slowly as she turned around. As soon as the hem of the shirt reached her waist, she bent over displaying her ass and the tight band of moist silk in between. One hand moved around to her buttocks and slapped it. A faint pink handprint shortly appeared as she playfully pulled aside the scrap of fabric flashing her pink bud for a mere second. Then she turned back around to face him and leisurely pulled her T-shirt over her head impishly throwing it at him. "You like what you see so far?" She teased, encircling her celestial globes and focusing all of her concentration on them.

House removed the garment hanging over his head and gradually nodded, uttering something indecipherable.

She snapped the elastic band of her thong and then finally dropped them to the floor, simultaneously revealing her beef curtains and curtain of privacy. She stepped out of them and hopped back onto the counter, cheating her body toward him so that one leg dangled off the counter and the other was open and propped up at the knee. She leaned her head back while her hands traveled back to her breasts, pinching and pulling the hard peaks.

Then she spread her legs further gliding her middle and index finger up and down over her most sensitive spot, increasing the friction and pace. With a little light pressure she inserted one digit and then added another. They sank deeper and deeper inside of her as if stuck in a pit of quicksand. Then she moved her fingers in a counter-clockwise fashion, spiraling to and from her heat. She closed her eyes and thrust her hips forward, continuing to tweak her nipples and finger herself.

A burning intensity began to build, igniting powerful emotions within him. House was on the verge of blowing his wad.

_No, I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)_

_With you _

Cuddy's breathing grew more erratic and shallow as she rubbed harder and faster, wiggling her most sensitive spot from side to side. The pressure was mounting—she was almost there. And then not one moment later her inner muscles tightened and she began to shake, entering a state of euphoria.

_No I…_

The rest of the song was drowned out to the tune of Cuddy's moaning. House clenched the half carton of milk as she shuddered and writhed on the countertop. The milk shot up in the air like a geyser, striking him in the face and all over the front of his tented apron. "I swear this has never happened before." He jokingly added. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be ready to go again."

Cuddy panted and smiled wickedly. "That's okay. I'm not done."

House gulped as she grabbed the kitchen utensils nearby and leaned back again, flexing and spreading both legs on the counter. First she reached for a teaspoon and then for a rubber spatula. She licked off every bit of chocolate batter remaining except for what had escaped and dripped onto the slopes of her breasts.

She eyed him curiously and placed the spoon followed by the scraper in between her legs. Both items mysteriously vanished. Then she fondled another item, a heavy whisk and took a deep breath before slowly pushing it in out of sight.

House's eyes were as big as saucers. His chin dropped as he dropped the emptied carton of milk onto the floor.

Cuddy lost her composure and slid off the counter laughing, revealing her deception. All of the said kitchen utensils remained next to her, unharmed. "You should really see you're face now. Hilarious."

"Want to see something else funny?" He grabbed a handful of sugar and blew it in her eyes—the big light brown ones on her chest. It stuck to her sweat-streaked body.

"Ha, ha, ha. Very mature." She tried to brush the sticky sugar off. "Now I believe you're supposed to make me breakfast. Get to it."

"I already did that."

"House! I'm starving."

He waggled his brows and grabbed another handful of sugar, blowing it on her breasts again. "Admit it. You're _too hungry_ to eat right now."

"Hey! A bet is a bet. Now start cooking."

He dug into a bag of chocolate chips and ate a few before pelting her side with the rest. "Um…No."

Cuddy resigned and leaned over the kitchen table, grabbing the bowl of batter. "You don't mind me messing around in the kitchen do you?" She set it down next to the waffle iron as House came up from behind her.

"Be my guest."

"Good." She turned around and dumped the entire bowl over his head and laughed. "Now that's funny."

House hurriedly ripped off his apron and wiped his face with it then he pinned her up against the kitchen counter, batter oozing everywhere. "You want me to whip something up? Fine." He placed her hand around his throbbing dick, "This recipe calls for buttermilk first."

Cuddy stroked and pulled his length as he lowered his head and proceeded to kiss then lick off the sugar crystals and batter all over her body. She laughed as his tongue skidded across her tingling skin. It felt like sand paper, gritty and a little rough but she liked it.

He cleared the counter with a sweep of his arm and lifted her up, placing her bottom on top. "On second thought I wouldn't mind eating out instead." He got down on his knees, spread her legs and tongue-fucked her till she came at least another two times.

Forty-six minutes later they were sprawled out on the floor in a sticky mixture of loose flour, cocoa powder, sugar, broken eggs, batter, baby batter and sweat.

House looked at Cuddy and puffed out loudly, completely satisfied with himself. "Well, there goes breakfast." He said while making a goopy "snow" angel.

She propped herself up on one elbow and grabbed hold of his arm as he tried to get up. "Not so fast bucko. A bet is a bet."

"Cuddy. It's not that I don't want too. I can't,"he pointed to the mess, "for obvious reasons."

"Then I guess you'll just have to make it over at my place when you drop me off. I have a clean, fully stocked kitchen. We need to go there anyway. I certainly can't go into work like this. I need to shower, change into appropriate business attire and…"

He coughed. "Appropriate?"

"You've never questioned my wardrobe before."

"Didn't have to. But now, I have to say that I have a problem when other people eyeball my girl's cleavage especially after not knowing that I'm tapping your sweet ass."

"House."

"On second thought. I take it back. They probably already know. That gossip Wilson knows about us…and Cameron…and your sister…and Melanie…and Kevin, I guess…and the neighbors next door…and the neighbors across the street…and perhaps all of Princeton. _You can be very loud_."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I guess it's not much of a secret anymore, huh?"

"So, does this mean we can tell everyone?"

"We'll discuss it after you make me breakfast." She moved to his ear and whispered. "I'm craving for something _banana nut_."

He glanced at the kitchen clock. "Then we better go."

She helped him up off the kitchen floor and patted him on the butt cheek. "By the way, you forget to mention your imaginary stalker. She knows about us too."

As soon as they pulled up to the driveway of her house, Cuddy got out of the car and headed to the front door while House unloaded the car. They would have been there a lot sooner, but were delayed because of their hearty appetite.

"House. House. Get in here!" Cuddy shouted.

"We're already running late. Can't you just wait 'till we get to work?"

He stepped into the doorway beside her.

Small muddy shoeprints zigzagged across the floor and the house appeared to be ransacked.

A/N: Lyrics to "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak.


	12. Chapter 12

After officially reporting the incident to the police, squad cars lined the streets in Cuddy's neighborhood while they canvassed the area searching for clues identifying the perpetrator. Despite no signs of forcible entry and nothing taken from her home, the very idea of someone else being in there was unsettling to say the least. As a precautionary measure Princeton PD suggested they beef up security at PPTH while authorities underwent further investigation into the case.

House and Cuddy arrived at the hospital around eleven o'clock that morning and were completely oblivious to the hospital staff gossiping about them. Eyes followed and heads turned as they walked side by side through the clinic area and into her office. Most wondered about what might be happening behind those closed doors but all wondered about the true nature of their relationship thanks to the news House's team and Wilson broke. Wilson gave the distinct notion that House was planning to propose to Cuddy that morning.

"Cuddy, I propose," House was on one knee, "that you remain here while I go to Clinic." He finished tying his shoelace. "I think it's best that we remain close to each other without arousing any suspicion."

"And I propose that you stay here with me, especially with a psycho on the loose."

"Hmm…we'd probably arouse more suspicion your way. Might as well hang a 'If This Office is a' Rockin', Don't Come a' Knockin' sign outside your door."

"But your way would arouse _even more_ suspicion."

"How so?"

"Since when do you _actually do_ clinic hours?"

House smirked. "Nice try Cuddy. You almost got me there. I seem to remember this morning you wanted to continue our bet. So, I'm going to play it safe and leave while I still can." He kissed her sweetly. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

"That'd be a first."

"Hardy har har." House kissed her once more before exiting her office.

In Exam Room One patient Charles Deluna was waiting desperately to be seen by a doctor—any doctor that can stomach being in the presence of him. He was uncouth and had a bowl haircut and kind of looked like Moe from _The Three Stooges,_ if you didn't take into account his oily skin and bevy of acne pockmarks. He sat on the exam room table in his brown, baggy, double-pleated dress pants that puckered up below his waist. Sweat-stained circles increased their diameter underneath his arms while he tugged anxiously at the top of his bright red turtleneck.

House arrived at the Clinic and resumed business as usual. He removed the file out of the plastic pocket mounted on the wall next to the door and entered the room but was immediately slapped in the face by an offensive odor. "_Holy Mackerel!_" He slammed the door shut and made sure he was on the other side of it.

The patient sighed and stared blankly at the door.

House braced himself and took in a deep breath before walking back in again. "What can I do for you?" He said shielding his hand over his nose.

The patient spoke in a boring monotone as House tried to focus holding his breath and not passing out. He nodded his head and maneuvered over to the supply cabinet, grabbed a surgical mask and put it on. "I'm listening," He blubbered in between breaths. His watery eyes darted across the room as the foul smell permeated throughout the tiny room and through his mask.

The patient scratched the side of his head with his long, dirty nails. A small hill of dandruff formed at his shoulder. "I just don't get it doc. It seems like everyone…"

"I'm sorry," House choked out cutting him off and holding up his hand. "This isn't working." He held his breath one more time before leaving the room.

Again, Charles was alone, pathetic and confused—something that he has felt all his life.

Then House came back sans mask with two dollops of vapor rub underneath his nose. He coughed as he inched his way back in the room and motioned with his hand for the patient to continue. "Go on."

"As I was saying…I just don't get it doc."

House's nose began to twitch and his eyes rapidly blinked S.O.S in Morse code. The walls felt like they were closing in on him and he felt his heart pounding harder in his chest. He couldn't take it anymore and had to leave. "Ahem. Would you excuse me for another moment?" He abruptly left the room again and tossed a couple of Vicodin in his mouth.

Fifteen minutes later he returned donned in a full Hazmat suit complete with breathing apparatus. He inhaled deeply and exaggerated a sigh as he entered the room. "Ah! Much better. Okay now, where were we?"

Charles bit his lip then uttered, "I just don't get it, doc. My parents have essentially disowned me, co-workers turn their heads away and nobody wants to sit near me on the bus. I haven't had a steady date in forever."

"So? Go find yourself a shrink."

"That's exactly what my shrink told me. Go find yourself _another_ shrink. Then he suddenly closed his private practice of twenty-four years after one and a half sessions with me and moved somewhere on the west coast." The patient disgustingly chewed the fingernails on his right hand favoring the middle finger best. "There's got to be something wrong with me. Everyone avoids me like I have the plague."

House pretended to read his chart. "You do."

"I do? I do what? _Have the plague_?"

"No. _You do_ seem to be rather annoying and boring. Have you ever considered that?"

"Impossible."

"Yes, and arrogant." He mocked. "Do you want to really know why you don't have any close friends or can't score with the chicks? A, it could be because you lack personality, appeal and a sense of smell. Or B, it might be the fact that you have TMAU—Trimethylaminuria also known as Fish Odor Syndrome. Your body has trouble breaking down and digesting some of the things you're eating. Are you familiar with _Deadliest Catch_?"

The patient shook his head no.

"Every time you sweat, breath or urinate you reek of low-tide, like rotting fish. People don't want to go near you because they know they'll gag. I've known you for five minutes and can tell you that your problem is C, all of the above."

Chase suddenly burst into the room. "House." His face contorted. "Pew! What in God's name is that smell?" He and the rest of the team plugged their noses.

"House we really need you back on the case," Foreman insisted swinging the door open and shut, trying to circulate the air. But it was of no use, of course.

"Begging won't get you anywhere. But bribery might."

Foreman continued, "House the patient…"

"Sorry. Can't leave clinic."

"Since when do you care about doing your clinic hours?"

"Since Cuddy threatened to tradeoff hours for lashes as punishment. And I've racked up a ridiculous amount of hours." House mischievously smiled. "Although, Cuddy and a whip would be…"

"Can we at least continue this conversation outside?" Thirteen pleaded.

House pointed at the patient. "Not until I'm done with Charlie the Tuna here."

"It's Deluna," Charles corrected him.

"Not today it isn't." He signed off on his chart and handed the patient literature on dietary restrictions for his condition. "There's plenty of fish out there in the sea. Follow this strict regime and you might reel in some snappers."

"Thanks doc."

The team followed House and Charles out of the exam room. "Okay. Who's next?"

"House!" Taub whined gripping his shnoz and sounding even more nasally than usual. "The patient is getting worse. We've exhausted all of our options."

He ignored his team and grabbed another file from the nurse's clinic station. "I just love the smell of desperation in the afternoon, don't you?" Then he walked over to the waiting area where several others were seated. "Francine Robertson?" He called out.

Chase held Taub back. "Don't hold your breath. He's not going to budge."

"Yeah. He's already whipped." Thirteen said under her breath as they walked away.

A woman got up, clutched her abdomen tightly and nervously laughed staring at House in his Hazmat suit. "Suddenly, I'm feeling better." She along with everyone else sitting in the bank of chairs left terrified, everyone except three individuals.

"Hi, there. I'm Dr. House." He faked a polite smile and removed the suit's protective face shield then held it at his side and waved a hand in front of the woman's dazed face startling her. "_Yo!_"

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"What seems to be the problem?"

The woman spoke while her husband cooed at their newborn baby in his arms. "Hi. Elise Harris." She pulled House aside. "Well, I'm not sure how to put it but I think his breath smells like puss."

House wrinkled his forehead. "I'm sorry. It sounded like you said," he cleared his throat, "and I quote, his breath smells _like puss_."

"Did I stutter?" Her eye squinted slightly.

"Tic Tacs and Massengil. You'll find those down at the pharmacy."

She read his ID badge clipped to outside of his bright orange suit. "Doctor Hourani. This is serious!"

"Alright. Come right this way." He led them to Exam Room Two with mask in tow as a precautionary measure. _No need to experience any more sensory overload_, he thought.

Elise paced the room, worried. "I want to say this started about a couple of days ago. Every time I put it in front of his face, he cries."

"Uh-huh." He tried to hold back a smile. "And how often would you say is that?"

"Right now, I'd say about ten. Sometimes twelve times a day."

"And you think _he's_ _the one_ with the problem?" He shook his head and grabbed a tongue depressor approaching her husband. "Okay, let me have a look. Say Ah."

"No. _Not him_." She swatted his hand away and held out her son. "_Him_. Why did you think I meant my husband?"

"Because you said...So," he stressed the last vowel, "almost three months old already? And you haven't broached the subject about the birds and the bees yet?"

"Huh? Birds. Bees. You think he has the Bird Flu? Or is allergic to bees stings?"

"No. No nothing at all, like that." House shook his head and slapped on a latex glove. "I think we're getting our signals crossed. _I think_ and _I'm hoping_ what you meant to say earlier was that your son's breath smells like _pus_."

"Pus? Yes. Pus! _Oh my God!_ I'm _so _embarrassed. Now I see why you thought…" She blushed crimson red and divulged, "Since Anthony arrived in our lives we haven't had any time to be intimate."

"Yeah, she's been having a hard time lately balancing marriage and motherhood." Her husband annoyingly remarked. "Her sex drive is completely gone."

"David. I'm sorry if you're…"

House tuned them out and stared off into the distance. "Pus." And then came the epiphany. _"Pus!"_ He pulled out his phone and called Foreman to prep the OR for surgery then quickly examined the infant's mouth. White patches on the tongue and tonsils were present. He interrupted their argument. "Thrush. He screams simply because it's uncomfortable to eat. It should clear up on its own in a couple of weeks but I can prescribe something for him to dull the pain." Then he pulled Elise aside and whispered. "I would however, be more concerned about your marriage. You've claimed to not have any relations yet your husband's breath smells like the jocks of the men on _Deadliest Catch_. Do I have to spell it out for you? P-U-S-S…"

Elise's beady eyes focused back on her husband, David.

He shrugged his shoulders and glared back at her. _"What?"_

"Is that lipstick on your collar?"

"Honey. I can explain…"

House left the room busting a gut. "Ten. Sometimes twelve times a day." He handed the file back to Nurse Brenda. "That actually sounds like Cuddy and me."

"What's this about you and Cuddy?"

"Nothing."

Nurse Brenda snickered, "That's not what I heard," as he limped away to find his team.

House turned around. "What?"

"Nothing." She stated matter-of-factly.

_There was definitely something else fishy going around the hospital_, he thought.

House rapped his cane against the glass door of patient Jennifer Drake's room. "She has Lemierre's Syndrome—The Forgotten Disease."

Molly was at her daughter's side fiercely looking at House's team. "What's _he_ doing here?"

"Lemierre's Syndrome?" They all said in unison.

House continued, "It is a very rare infectious disease—so rare that many doctors have never even heard about it, including my team. It usually develops after a severe strep throat creates pus pockets and bacteria near the tonsils. These abscesses contain _Fusobacterium Necrophorum_ and can flourish, enter the bloodstream through the jugular vein, infecting the blood and traveling to other parts of the body." He held up Jennifer's most recent CAT SCAN and pointed to one side of the film. "Septic Emboli. It's in her lungs and has hitched a ride to her brain. This explains the sore throat, abdominal pain, increased swelling, neurological status…everything."

"Then do the test to confirm," her mother stubbornly insisted.

"No. We take her to the OR now and perform a left craniotomy." House handed her a clipboard. "Sign the consent form."

She was about to sign when Taub intervened. "It's a very risky procedure. There could be a chance of seizures, brain damage. She could even die."

"Taub," House spoke through gritted teeth, "Not helping."

Molly stood her ground. "The I'll sign it after the tests if it's still necessary."

"The blood culture won't be available until another three or four days. She doesn't have that kind of time."

She scanned the faces of House's team for an answer, specifically looking at Taub. He had more of a trustworthy face.

Taub bobbed his balding pate up and down. "All the symptoms do fit."

Jennifer tried to put on a brave face, but trembling hands and quivering lips couldn't fool anyone. She reached for her mother's hand and began crying. "Mom. I'm scared."

"Me too. I don't know what to do."

"You sign the consent form and keep your daughter alive."

Everyone turned around to see Cuddy in the room.

"I'm Dr. Cuddy, Dean of Medicine at this hospital and I'm sorry that you and House started off on the wrong foot. He tends to rub people the wrong way and likes to push boundaries and especially people's buttons. He can be…"

House coughed and craned his head toward the door, interrupting her. "Why don't we give them a minute?" The team followed him out while he slid the door shut to give them some privacy. "Cuddy's got my back."

"And your front," Chase uttered under her breath.

Less than five minutes later Cuddy appeared with the signed consent form.

House affectionately smiled at her and grabbed the paperwork from her hand. "Thanks. You're the best." Everyone stared at them as his hand lingered a bit too long. He broke out of his trance. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

His team quickly went back into Jennifer's room and wheeled her to the OR.

Cuddy turned to House. "Something weird is going on. Staff members have been dropping by my office congratulating me all day and some have even thanked me for making them a hundred dollars richer. What do you think it all means? You didn't tell anyone else about us, did you?"

"No, I swear."

The Drake Family graciously applauded House's efforts and thanked him for saving their daughter's life. Although still at the hospital in Recovery, she was finally responding well to treatment and showed no signs of impairment or further injury.

It had been a long surgical procedure and House was tired but anxious to go back to Cuddy's side. He trekked back to her office when Nurse Regina at the clinic station spotted him. "Patient in Exam Room Two is waiting for you. Says it's urgent. Says she'll only see you."

He rolled his eyes as his cell phone rang displaying a blocked phone number and avoided the call. "Great." He grabbed the file folder from her hand and walked in to the backside of a blond haired woman leaning over the exam table. She had two long mini-braids that intersected in the middle and a pair of hot pink panties poking out of the top of her low-rise jeans.

The young lady turned around with her phone to her ear, twirling her beaded necklace. "I was just calling you."

"Do I know you?"

"It's me." She playfully smiled. "Ali."

"Ali?"

"Stop playing games! Don't act like you don't know me."

"Of course! Ali! I treated you and your father. Rhinovirus."

She enveloped her arms around his neck and smiled brightly at him. "I've been thinking about you. About us."

He swallowed hard. "Me too."

"I was a bit crushed when you didn't call me after my eighteenth birthday, but we can make up for that time lost."

House escaped her clutches. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I think some alone time is in order."

"We can go to Fresno! You said we'll always have Fresno."

"No. Right now." House went to the door and winked. "I'm going to make sure that nobody disturbs us, if you know what I mean. Stay right here. I'll be right back."

He swiftly closed the door behind him and approached Nurse Regina again. "Call security. No wait call the police. Make sure that woman doesn't leave that room."

"Where are you going? What is this about?"

He ran over to Cuddy's office making sure she was protected and safe.

_Hours later…_

"If you've come back to return the rectal thermometer, you can keep it."

Detective Michael Tritter had a smug look on his face. "Hello, House."

"What do you want? You still trying to deliberately ruin my life?"

"I think you know what I'm here for."

House took out the bottle of Vicodin from his coat pocket, shook it, "I happen to have a legit prescription for these pal," and then audaciously dry swallowed a couple pills in front of him.

Tritter shifted his eyes toward Cuddy. "I'm sure you do. But that's not why I'm here."

"You're sick and your chances of living are next to none unless _I_ help you?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you? Sorry. Can't get rid of me that easily." He stepped into Cuddy's office and placed a shoulder bag onto one of the chairs.

"What's that?"

"Evidence." He unzipped the bag and removed a worn-in black collarless leather jacket that had red and white stripes around the biceps, an RTAI Sports patch on the front and zippered pockets. "I believe this belongs to you."

"What did you do? Break into my apartment," he ripped it out of Tritter's hands, dug into the pockets and took out a bottle of Vicodin, "and plant evidence? Let me see the search warrant."

Tritter produced a piece of paper.

"This is not valid. That's not even my address."

"I know." He handed House a snapshot. "I believe you know this woman, a former patient of yours. We found your jacket at her place after questioning her. Despite my protests with the department I've been assigned to this case because of my familiarity with you and this hospital." He placed the photo of Ali back into his coat pocket. "A psych counsel diagnosed her with a manifestation of erotomanic and jealous type delusional disorders."

Cuddy felt ill. "Erotomania? She thought House was in love with her?"

"I know. It's preposterous, right? I mean _what woman_ would want _him_."

She looked confused. "But don't these type of cases normally involve celebrities?"

House self-righteously piped up, "I am well-known in the world of medicine."

"And in the community. You were in the papers recently. Some big hospital event." Tritter pulled out a folded piece of newspaper from the inside of his breast suit pocket and pointed to a photo of House and Kobayashi—one of the major donors—shaking hands.

"The expansion of the PEDS wing," Cuddy affirmed.

House glanced at Cuddy. "See, this is why I never go to those stupid hospital functions."

"This article must have triggered an episode. It explains the phone calls, unwanted gifts and the latest vandalism at Dr. Cuddy's residence." Tritter changed his demeanor. "I don't want to scare you but we seized a hammer, a roll of duct tape and rope from the trunk of her car and found a barrel hidden in the backyard storage shed at her parents' house as well as three caseloads of sulfuric acid that were reported stolen last week from a pharmaceutical lab across town."

"Oh my God!" Cuddy turned to House and buried her face in his chest on the verge of tears. He held her tightly comforting her.

"We're not quite sure what Ali's intentions were but I think it's fairly obvious that she thought Dr. Cuddy posed some kind of threat with the evidence we found against her." Tritter gazed suspiciously at the two of them. "She wanted to literally dissolve whatever type of relationship you may or might have." Then he grabbed his duffle bag and made his way toward the door. "We'll be in touch. If you have any further questions, you know where to find me."

"Are you okay?" House held Cuddy's face in his hands catching her falling tears. "Why don't I take you hom…" He stopped himself and wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say…"

"I know." She pulled away from him. "Let's get out of here. I can use a change of scenery. Somewhere far away, okay?"

"Anywhere. You name it. I'll be there with you every step of the way."

She glanced at his bum leg and cracked a smile. "No you can't."

He shot back a wicked smile.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I just had a crazy thought. Why don't we go to Spain and France, like right now? I can call the airline and bump up our flight. Of course, if you don't want…"

"No. I think it's a great idea. The sooner the better."

"Yeah, the sooner the better." And then he kissed her longingly, only this time it felt different. Every part of his heart and soul had always yearned for her but this kiss was filled with promise and hope, unlike any other kiss shared between them.

House's eyes locked onto hers as he clasped her hand, smiling. "And so our journey begins."

The End

A/N: I know what you're thinking. You want more, yes? Everybody loves a good fic. So be prepared to look out for another tale filled with romance and adventure with these two in Europe. But first I'll need time to map out the story and as always, please review.


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